It’s another gorgeous Sunday morning. Our alarm (Sheba) went off just before 6 am. She seldom malfunctions. But she does occasionally. Even though she can hear me peel a banana in a different room, she never heard the thieves that crept right up to the bedroom window one night. She was sleeping on the job. Nothing/nobody is foolproof. Not even Sheba.
An early alarm has its benefits. We’re up at the crack of dawn. I do enjoy the silence before the world wakes. I have time to sip and enjoy my cuppa with an empty head and mind. We’re all fed and done our business. I’ve paid the bills, vacuumed the floor and cleared off some of the stuff on the dining room table. It continues to be life’s catch-all. I can always blame Sheba. She’s a good excuse for many of my failures in housekeeping.
She was a squirming bundle of energy for sure at 2 months. We did not breakfast together like I dreamed of. I despaired constantly for the first months if not years. I talked about how hard it was having Sheba to everyone, including a store clerk. I thought of taking her to SPCA. When she heard that, she offered to take her when I get that desperate. But Sheba was so pretty and smart, her saving graces.
But I did some things right. She was perfectly house trained by the book. She can sit so prettily. She can shake a paw and then the other paw perfectly. She melted my heart. I took her out to ‘potty ‘every hour for I can’t remember how long. She could do down the deck stairs but no way climb up. I had to carry her. I felt almost crippled doing the stairs so many times. Then one day, a truck thundered down the back alley and up the stairs she ran. Trained!
Enough for today. We have to go for our walk now.