So it's 6:30 am and I've been up for a half hour, reading and answering emails. I think it'd be a neat idea to head back to my nice, warm bed, pull my nice, warm blankets up over me and have a nice nap. I crawl back in bed, snuggle in nice and comfy when BLAM!
An explosion hits my bed.
"Oh daddy, it's a beautiful day outside, let's go walkies! Let me kiss you. Kiss, kiss, kiss! Here, let me chew on your ear. Let me bite your hair. Isn't this fun, daddy? You're my favorite person in the whole world! 'Cept mommy; mommy's my other favorite person in the whole world! Get up, daddy. Get up! Let's play! Let's go walkies! "
It's that no good, lousy mutt again. That Tim Cunning! How could he disturb my naps like this? Giving me a cute little pup that doesn't know when to slow down? I'll get him for this! (I pull the blankets up over my head, thinking maybe the pup, not seeing me, will go away. Doesn't work.)
Oh, daddy! C'mon. It's much too pretty of a day outside for you to nap. Take me for walkies! Please! Pretty please? I know you're under that blanket. Oh, daddy, that's good. You want to play hide and seek! Here, let me tug on the blanket. I'll find you. I love to play! Did I tell you you're my favorite daddy and I love, love, love you?
Ain't workin', I decide. I slip on my tennis shorts, throw on a polo shirt, slip on my chewed up Birkenstock sandals (hmmmm. Wonder who could have chewed up my sandals. I'm sure it wasn't Evelyn. Wonder who . . . ?)
Oh good! You're up, daddy! You're just the greatest daddy in the world! Watch my jump daddy! Pick me up, daddy!
Let's run to the family room daddy! This is gonna be so much fun! I'm so excited!
We get to the family room and I pick up her leash and beg her, I absolutely beg her, to settle down and quit squirming so I can attach the leash to her collar. It is done. She now has her leash with the 16' retractable cord.
C'mon daddy, let's go!
She rushes to the sliding glass door leading to the back yard and pulls me along with her. I'm 225 lbs. She's about 10 lbs. And she's pulling me, like a sled dog. Where in the hell does she get all this energey?
We get outside, I sit down in my lawn chair, release the leash brake, letting the leash line play out, and she heads for the nice, warm grass.
And immediately lies down, stretches out, and begins to take a nap, soaking in the late summer, early fall morning sun.
She can nap, but I can't? T'ain't fair.
I'll get you for this, Tim Cunning! You, mad, wild Irishman, you! Forcing me to fall hopelessly in love with this no good, rotten, little pup! You'll get yours, Mr. Cunning! Just you wait!