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I am a morning person. I like to wake up have some silent time/meditation, eat breakfast, and then read several sources of inspirational writings. I used to call this my morning ritual. However, lately, I’ve come to realize, I have to go through the morning routine first. Sometimes there is a variance in my morning routine. There are mornings where I wake up all by myself and I can have a peaceful morning. But, most of the times, this is what I go through.
Morning Routine:
- I let Maddy out while Chyna struggles to get up. (Maddy usually gets up with me every morning. Or, she wakes me up by whining and crying to be let out. On occasion, she wakes me up with the sound of her wailing at the top of her lungs. She suffers from night terrors.)
- I prepare to cook breakfast. (Thank God I have a Keurig.)
- Maddy barks to be let in. So, I drop what I’m doing and I go and let her in. (She then lays in the dining room watching me cook breakfast. Sometimes she whines, grunts, and hisses to remind me she’s there. She may be only 8 pounds, but she has the attitude of royalty, and she demands her needs be met.)
- While trying to cook breakfast, I prepare Chyna’s medicine. (I have to camouflage 3 of her pills by burying them into treats. Otherwise, she won’t eat them. She eats her Cosequin DS without any problems.)
- Chyna wakes up and comes out panting and breathing heavily. (She has to go out, but I have to wait till she’s good and ready. If I attempt to open the door before she’s ready, she just looks outside with a dumbfounded, blank stare, and I have to close the door. She has to first, drink some water, then, check her bowl for breakfast. She then paces back and forth a couple of times, with her manic panting and heavy breathing. Then, after her weird neurotic ritual, she goes up to the sliding glass doors, looking like she’s having a panic attack. If I’m lucky, she will jump right out and go straight to the screened door. If not, I have to wait for her to contemplate her exit. With a wobble of her head and some more manic hysteria, she will finally jump onto the mat in the patio. She then has to check the along the screening for varmint, before making it to the screened door, where I can finally let her out.)
- While Chyna is outside, I fill her bowl with some kibble and place her medicine on top. At the same time, the toaster rings to let me know my bagel has burned. (The timer has never worked properly and you have to keep an eye on it before it overcooks your stuff) If I’m lucky, I catch it before it rings.
- I then give Maddy a couple of treats (She needs her sympathy medicine or she’ll be jealous) and finish compiling breakfast. (Which also consist of cutting some up for Maddy. She has gotten very fickle in her old age.)
- Chyna barks to be let in. So, I drop what I’m doing and I go and let her in. (She goes straight to her bowl and gobbles up all her food in record time as if she is in some sort of eating contest.)
- I finish up breakfast, place Maddy’s portion in her bowl, and sit down to eat. (This part of my day varies. If Maddy decides to eat what’s in her bowl, it’s all good. If not, she sits beside me and whines, grunts, and hisses to remind me she’s there. Sometimes, I’m graced with Chyna’s presence as well. She lays right next to me, breathing heavily because she just gobbled her breakfast in record time.)
Oy Vey!
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