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Over the last few months, I have painfully experienced the wrath of Mr. I-am-Starving-And-Never-Fed-Anything Zeus while he methodically worked to move up when breakfast was served. I am now witnessing the epic foodie-dance at 2:00 a.m. ... and this is after he has woken me up at 1:00 a.m. and 1:30 a.m. to pee and poop respectfully. Blinking in disbelief at what the clock is telling me, I rightfully decline his outrageous offer. His retort is a fairly loud grumble followed by nearly running me over to rush back to his bed. You see, he must get a headstart on sleeping so that he may properly reprimand me for not heeding to his wishes.
Now, me and mornings do NOT get along at all, so all future attempts to get me up are met with a growling "Go-lie-down-NOW". Sure, he tip-toes back to his bed, but only for a half hour at a time. We have this back and forth until I finally relent at 4:59 a.m. for my poor husband's sake who is being tortured as well. Zeus gleefully runs around the kitchen, drools a puddle and a half and then hoovers up his breakfast while I am making a mad dash for the bed.
Okay, now the torment would be over, right? Not so fast lady! Zeus knows all too well that there is an exactly one-hour break between eating and playing. Therefore, where is he promptly at 6:00 a.m. but playing machine-gun pokey game on my face, not to go pee, not to poop, but to go play ballie. Amazed my nose is still intact, I am pretty darn close to skinning this dog. A few choice words later and he slinks back to bed. But no worries, he is back again at 7:00 a.m. Oh, you haven't slept a wink yet? How about 7:30 a.m.? Does 7:45 a.m. work better for you? Hell lady, I can do this all morning. And trust you me, he can. Furious and exhausted, I throw myself out of bed, stomp down the stairs, get his harness on and head out into snow (did I mention that I HATE snow?!), all the while he is prancing and spinning with utter joy. What a good human!
Sure, his cuteness kills all my fury within a couple of throws, but it is the principle of the thing. Why do you torture your mother, she loves you! Oh, that's right, because you are Doberman! You found a slight opening in my desire to please you and you ran with it all the way to China and back! Worse yet, I have let you! Well, Master Zeus, that all stops as of now! My shackles are being cast off and the constant waking up of mother will stand no more! You will be allotted one chance at 1:30 a.m. to do your manly business. Breakfast will served at 5:00 a.m., not a second before, and any mention of playing will have to wait until at least 8:00 a.m.!
Yeah, I will believe it when I see it. If I love Zeus so much, I should want to spend every waking moment with him...which means there must be as many "waking moments" as possible. I am doomed.
Now, me and mornings do NOT get along at all, so all future attempts to get me up are met with a growling "Go-lie-down-NOW". Sure, he tip-toes back to his bed, but only for a half hour at a time. We have this back and forth until I finally relent at 4:59 a.m. for my poor husband's sake who is being tortured as well. Zeus gleefully runs around the kitchen, drools a puddle and a half and then hoovers up his breakfast while I am making a mad dash for the bed.
Okay, now the torment would be over, right? Not so fast lady! Zeus knows all too well that there is an exactly one-hour break between eating and playing. Therefore, where is he promptly at 6:00 a.m. but playing machine-gun pokey game on my face, not to go pee, not to poop, but to go play ballie. Amazed my nose is still intact, I am pretty darn close to skinning this dog. A few choice words later and he slinks back to bed. But no worries, he is back again at 7:00 a.m. Oh, you haven't slept a wink yet? How about 7:30 a.m.? Does 7:45 a.m. work better for you? Hell lady, I can do this all morning. And trust you me, he can. Furious and exhausted, I throw myself out of bed, stomp down the stairs, get his harness on and head out into snow (did I mention that I HATE snow?!), all the while he is prancing and spinning with utter joy. What a good human!
Sure, his cuteness kills all my fury within a couple of throws, but it is the principle of the thing. Why do you torture your mother, she loves you! Oh, that's right, because you are Doberman! You found a slight opening in my desire to please you and you ran with it all the way to China and back! Worse yet, I have let you! Well, Master Zeus, that all stops as of now! My shackles are being cast off and the constant waking up of mother will stand no more! You will be allotted one chance at 1:30 a.m. to do your manly business. Breakfast will served at 5:00 a.m., not a second before, and any mention of playing will have to wait until at least 8:00 a.m.!
Yeah, I will believe it when I see it. If I love Zeus so much, I should want to spend every waking moment with him...which means there must be as many "waking moments" as possible. I am doomed.