Sorry for the brevity of this week’s blog, I am fighting a head cold and as I approach sixty-four years old; it becomes more draining with each year.
It was nine years ago we picked Ginger from the shelter not knowing her breed. She appeared somewhat hyper, but it was the prison-like environment we supposed. We took her and our daughter to obedience classes for the betterment of both. The daughter excelled and learned a lot. Ginger being the super-hyper type didn’t fare as well.
Ginger slept with me and mom in our room. The first movement in the morning brought the bouncing puppy onto the bed to play hop on pop. Mom rose first and the crazy dog rolled, jumped, and then pounced on me until I rubbed her head as she demanded. The sink water ran, and Ginger gathered by the door for breakfast. After they left the room, I could rise without being scratched and scraped by over-anxious claws.
The years pass and Ginger’s chin transforms from a cayenne orange to a salty white. Her bouncing personality transforms from a hyper-spry dog to a Karen-like demeanor. Our morning routine changes from a pouncing puppy to a grumbling old dog complaining we are disturbing her sleep. Instead of hearing whimpers of excitement to start the day, a low toned, “Gooorrrrnnnnn,” and “Grrrruuummm,” fills the room because we chose to move in the morning. As the autumn morning sun peers into our windows after we rise in the morning, the darkness echoes the discomfort as we start the day. Don’t disturb a Karen from her sleep, even if the Karen is your family dog.
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