The dogs and I get up before everyone else in the house. I am comforted by our morning rituals. First potty break of the day the young cocker, on rare occasion, can’t quite manage to wait to get outside. Some days I move too slow for her. I think it is a metaphor.
The old cocker and I are age synchronized. My old girl takes a few steps down the stairs then patiently waits for me to catch up. And so we make our way to the front door where the young one, spinning in circles, begs us to hurry before it’s too late.
The first morning tour of the neighborhood is always interesting. Still early enough to run rabbits off the lawn if we’re lucky. Newspapers still in wrappers on sidewalks.
This has been a very “Nat Geo” week so far. We have been mesmerized by a beautiful red fox ambling down the road in front of our house. The fox’s tail was exactly as long as its henna body. Confident black face looking back at us as if to say, ” I know. I am gorgeous.”
Earlier in the week we stumbled upon a pair of baby cardinals that must have fallen out of their nest. They didn’t have enough feathers to be fledglings. Could they have been pushed out by a local nest robber?
I felt very sad that I couldn’t help the frantic parents get the chicks back into their nest. My hands were full dragging the dogs away from the chicks who looked like breakfast.
I have thought about those terrified little chicks and fiercely protective parents all week. Every once in a while I will tear up wishing life was not so cruel.
The dogs and I live on an ordinary street in an ordinary town, but in the early morning hours, we live large.