5:40 a.m.: Crawl out of nice, warm, comfortable, soft, cozy bed. Riley and Doug are already up and on their morning walk.
5:45 a.m.: Lug Boscoe out into the yard. Go back in house and get his Tramadol, take insulin out of fridge to warm up.
5:50 a.m.: Give Boscoe his Tramadol and then walk him slowly up the alley to see what magic might occur. Pick him up when he falls over.
6:05 a.m. Get coffee. Watch the sun come up.
6:15: a.m. Doug and Riley return. Sit on porch and read paper, chat, drink coffee.
6:40 a.m.: Start feeding the dogs. Try to guess what Boscoe might eat today.
6:45 a.m. Hold Boscoe up with a towel around his midsection to keep him from collapsing while he eats. Listen to him crunch. Smell the peculiar odor of canned dog food wafting past my nose.
6:55 a.m.: Give Boscoe his insulin and Metacam while Riley stands mournfully off to the side, wondering why his brother's breakfast was so much more festive than his.
7:10 a.m.: Pack lunches. No, not for the dogs. For us! Kiss husband goodbye and he flies out the door toward work.
7:20 a.m.: Walk Boscoe again, because the magic still needs to occur.
7:29 a.m.: Dispose of magic in garbage can.
7:30 a.m. Take Boscoe into the back yard so I can give him his medicated bath. (He has skin infections on his back and his groin.) (Says Doug, "Why are you not bathing my groin?")
7:32 a.m.: Wolf down breakfast in dining room while Boscoe barks in annoyance; he is standing in the back yard covered in medicated shampoo. (It needs to sit for 10 minutes.)
7:45 a.m.: Rinse miserable Boscoe and dry him with big towel. Pick him up when he falls over. Carry him into the house.
8 a.m.: Walk with Riley around the lake. Yes, Riley has already been walked. This one's for me.
8:30 a.m. Lift weights, take a shower, get dressed.
8:55 a.m.: Fly out the door.
9:20 a.m. Slink in to work.
I'm not really late for work; I do a lot of work from home--reading books for review, answering emails, editing, writing reviews and blog posts. But oh for a leisurely morning!