So I've been busy

The weather has been getting nicer, which means I've been outside more. There's an endless to-do list that seems to keep getting longer.  Here's how a typical day goes.

Did I tell you I'm sleeping upstairs now, near JK's room? I like to sleep at the top of the stairs, but sometimes, if it's not too hot, I get into the dog bed they got me. The bed has a hole in it, with some egg-carton foam sticking through, but that's a story for another day.

I wake up around 4, usually, and although I try to be quiet, my feet are actually kind of noisy on the carpet.  It sounds like sandpaper scratching wood when I walk.  Not very subtle.  Jen usually wakes up, but she wakes up then anyway, and if I give her hand a lick, she's pretty nice about patting my head.  Ken isn't as aware of what's going on at that hour. 

So then Jen and I usually clump downstairs and she goes over and presses a button on that silver box and then opens the deck door for me. I love the deck, especially in the mornings when it's cool, and because it has a door just for Buzz and me. The door used to be much smaller, for a dog Buzz's size, but when the top of the opening started rubbing the fur off my back, Ken put in a new one that was easier for me to fit through.  It's really nice.

Jen fills a cup with that strong smelling black stuff from the silver box, and then sits down with her computer and I usually just flop somewhere nearby.  If I go outside and bark, she doesn't like it.  I'll be out there barking my howly bark, (doesn't she see what I see? Or smell what I smell?) and she will launch herself out of her narcolounger (that's what they call their recliners. I've seen Jen snoring away in that chair often enough to know why they call them that) and race to the door and call me in a loud whisper, "Maxwell!! Get in here!"  I'm good about running back in.  Jen will lift my chin up so I have to look at her. Then she'll say something like, "The neighbors are NOT going to be excited to have a howly yowly dog waking them up at 4:30 a.m.!"  I have to admit, I hadn't thought about that.  I hear dogs barking all the time and I guess I just don't see why I have to be any different. But Ken and Jen seem to think I should know better. 

So that's the early morning routine.  By six or so, Jen will say to me, "Go wake up Ken." Oh, I love this part!! I go racing up the stairs, as fast as I can, and run to Ken's side of the bed. I put my front paws on any part of him that I can touch.  Their bed is tall, but I do a pretty good job of patting him down, with several slick licks in there for good measure. It works! Ken gets up.

I can feel myself revving up, and though I know they have to drink their black stuff and stare at their computers, I feel like I'm going to go crazy if they don't give in to being herded to the garage door. But no. They just say something like, "Maxwell. Chill out. We'll go, but not right this second." Oh, it's agony. Sometimes Buzz gets up and he and I get into little tussles, just to get their attention. They ignore us.  We are SO on their timetable.  But I try to keep busy until they're ready.

If the door to the deck is open, and I see the sprinklers going, I feel like you would if you were next in line at your favorite roller coaster. I go tearing outside and attack. I can't even tell you how much fun it is to run through those things, snap at the water, race after the elusive sprinkles.  I get completely, totally sopping wet.  It's heaven. I save the shaking-off until I'm back in the house - Jen rolls her eyes and will say, "Maxwell, you have the whole outdoors, so why do you have to do it inside, right here by the window?" Then she gets a few paper towels and wipes it up.

If the sprinklers aren't going, I may find one of my toys, hopefully a squeaky one, and give it a good shaking, close enough to the narcoloungers to call attention to the fact that Buzz and I are WAITING!! It's so hard to keep still.

But no. Jen must now go do her "exercises".  I follow her upstairs and watch as she does a few calisthentics, sit-ups and such, and then...oh joy, wait for it...yes! She opens the drawer, gets out the socks and I dance with delirious abandonment - We're going on a walk! We're going on a walk! She got the socks! We're going on a walk!