Softie and I have fallen into a nice little routine, which gives me great pleasure. I do love a routine, as it helps me to schedule my day between eating and napping.
Each morning Softie prepares for me a delicious dish of diced chicken, opens the blinds on the front window, and give me the first set of eye drops. By the time she walks out the front door I have finished my morning meal (leaving a bit for later, of course) and have situated myself on the back of leather sofa #2, where I watch her walk to the bus stop at the end of our street.
After she has climbed into the belly of the bus, I turn my attention to the next door neighbor, who leaves in a little metal monster parked at the curb. Each morning when he opens the front door, I can hear the evil Mooch begging him not to leave. He carries on, yelping and pleading, until the metal monster is out of sight. One would think he would understand the routine by now, but then again, he IS a dog.
I next turn my attention to the humans across the street from our neighbors. Their morning routine includes letting outside their huge, fluffy Burmese, who sniffs the house perimeter and then lounges on the front porch, and taking their Pug-ly little dog, Elvis, for a walk. As far as barkers go, I don’t mind Elvis too much, as I rarely hear a peep out of him. He seems genuinely chuffed to be allowed out in public with a face like that.
After Elvis passes my house, I nap until being rudely awakened by the postman throwing piles of magazines through our door. This is my signal to go and have a mid-morning snack and prepare myself for the arrival outdoors of The Don. If it is cold outside The Don doesn’t appear (bit like a groundhog, that little old lady) and I go upstairs and nap on the duvet until well into the afternoon. If the weather is nice I, along with the squirrels and the rest of the neighborhood, await the arrival of The Don.
Softie comes home in the afternoon, waves to The Don, gives me eye drop #2, and together we venture out into the back garden to enjoy the sunshine. When I have had my fill of the great outdoors I insist on being let back inside the house, which prompts her to prepare for me a lovely dinner of delicious diced chicken in the kitchen.
The evening is spent dozing on her lap, regardless of whether she is on the sofa, or sitting in the office. I am given the last set of eye drops of the day, and have myself an evening snack while she reads in bed. The bedside light being switched off is my cue to climb into bed and curl up next to her, and the whole routine begins anew the following morning.
As much as I enjoy this routine, I miss the routine I had with the British One. I hope he returns soon.