Sometimes I think being obsessed with the dogs is a bad thing. Like being obsessed with velvet Elvis paintings or old 70's muscle cars. Something other people might look down on.
But then I am always reminded how special they are.
Every morning after the blaring alarm clock jolts me into reality, I drag myself out of bed after hitting the snooze button at least twice. Kaiser acts like he needs to go out to do his business, but as soon as he sees an empty spot on the bed (my spot) he runs for it. I guess a good warm spot on the bed is hard to turn down.
Zelda on the other hand basically tears a rut in the carpet getting downstairs and out the backdoor so she can go out. And when she comes back in she is full of energy and affection for a couple of brief moments. Then she starts scanning the floor for toys like a minuteman brigade scanning the border for immigrants.
As soon as she finds a toy, your peaceful morning with a cup of coffee and the paper are over.
But alas, it's really worth it. As my mornings have become accustomed to a repetition of throwing a soggy ball or piece of a former chew toy for Zelda, I am reminded these are also children of God, I love them very much and my life wouldn't be normal nor complete without them.
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