Man. Dog. Sunday morning. After a week of early starts, this morning Carley and I slept until 7:00, and then we lingered lazily for an hour and a half. Tea. Reading. Slow breakfast. MUD\WTR. Sun soaking. Cricket listening. Lots of snuggles, belly and ear scratching, even a treat or three. Sunday morning with Carley is an especial but rare ritual. Down time. Together.
And yes, our 63lb. Labrador retriever identifies as a lap dog. Really.
Sometimes early in the morning she’ll find her way up onto the bed and drape herself across my chest. It’s an effective way to get me up which she knows is step one toward breaking her overnight fast.
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