My Schedule

It’s like being at Boot Camp, with far more smooching than the military usually allows (or at least that’s what I hear). The day generally goes like this (by the way, “Hurry” is one of those human euphemisms for toileting activities):

5 am

I whimper……She gets up and greets me with a lot of whispered hugging & kissing -- out of my kennel and onto a Red Sox leash for a “Hurry” outside. I can tell you that after 8 hours, I am on task with this physical relief.

5:15 am

She rewards me with more low-volume praise and kisses while the coffeemaker hums along. We play, She talks; I am very excited as the day begins.

While She sips her coffee and peruses e-mail nearby, I chow-down on yet another bowl of my Eukanuba cupful, with giant slurps of fresh bottled water. It’s not the Ritz, but very nice nonetheless.

5:30 am

Another “Hurry” attempt -- sometimes yes, sometimes, no. I am not a machine.

The House Dog, a wheaton terrier, joins us.... and for the life of me, I can not understand her reluctance to gallop around my tethered space. Perhaps she’s playing hard-to-get? Am still not sure what’s up with this pet of Theirs.

6 am

He enters the scene -- another “Hurry” effort before He leaves for the gym.

6:30 am

She & I review the “Come” “Sit” “Down” sequence a few times for Charley Bears. Damn, they’re tasty! I know that “Swezey, Kennnel” means the fun has come to an end for now. (I also know that She is very annoyed when I chomp on her arm, hand, slipper, or bare feet. “Ouch, don’t!" means no Charley Bears for awhile……

8 am

She comes downstairs, He returns from the gym, and They have breakfast and talk about all sorts of disinteresting things. A little while later, it’s one more “Hurry” and that’s it until almost lunchtime. I have lots of toys, but I miss chewing on the ends of Her robe when she’s pre-occupied with something else.

11:00 am

He take me out on a l-o-n-g walk -- we don’t practice much of anything since he is a quiet guy and likes to walk without much chatter. Once we’re inside, a nice bowl of fresh water follows with another cup of puppy chow. (By the way, I also eat again -- supper --around 4:30 pm which means I’ll do well in Florida with the Early Bird Specials if CCI ships me there in May, 2011.)

Aside from a couple of “Hurry” forays into the backyard, the afternoon has intermittent “training” time with Her and indecisive sniffing from the Wheaton. I actually like being tethered to “My Space” since it provides a dog’s-eye view of most everything going on with these people.

I adore riding in the car, being brushed and fussed over with a warm washcloth, and having my tummy rubbed. Those are the highlights of some afternoons.

After supper and a couple of “Hurry” sprints, He and She go upstairs and watch TV in the Loft with the Wheaton. I can hear everything that goes on but I can’t see them. They brought me up there last week but promptly returned me to “my space” when I pee’d on the ottoman and chewed the leg of it too.

I heard Her say that They ”jumped the gun” on bringing me to the Loft. Must be some military term I’m not familiar with.

At any rate, He ALWAYS takes me out to “Hurry” precisely at 9 pm and then gently coaxes me into my kennel and say’s a kind but firm “goodnight.”

If they played Taps on a trumpet it couldn’t be more like Fort Skylar.