I’m not sure about the rest of you, but in Zenga’s world, the sun now rises sometime between 5:00 and 5:15.
A.M.
And in Zenga’s world, when the sun rises, so does he. And, therefore, so do I. Between 5:00 and 5:15.
A.M.
And after he rises, Zenga’s first order of business is to demand a trip outside, giving me just enough time to run downstairs, fill up his breakfast bowl, grab his daily supplements, fill up the greyhound’s breakfast bowl, run upstairs, to the back door, and let in the Old Yellow Dog.
Once confirmed that I do, indeed, have his breakfast in hand, he follows me to the kitchen, where I put water on his food, feed him the supplements while walking to the hearth, set his bowl down, and let the greyhound outside.
In the time it takes Zenga to eat, I brush my teeth, let the greyhound in and think about going back to bed – a brief and wishful thought, as by then Z is done with breakfast and demanding to be let out for Phase 2.
The second trip out offers a fascinating (at least to my morning-muddled mind) study in the power of routine. Zenga has a route, snuffling around the lawn, down the hill, onto the trail, through the woods ‘til he hits the driveway. Then it’s along the lilacs, across the driveway and toward the house.
My timing plays a critical role in this ritual. Too early, I disrupt the flow and will be expected to wait until he finds his place again and completes the course. Too late, he’ll repeat the circuit, and once started, cannot be interrupted.
A beautifully choreographed routine, for which my dog has trained me well, much to his delight. After all, a happy dog makes for a happy owner. Even between 5:00 and 5:15.
A.M.
From Four Sticks Farm 