Never wanting to leave my lax position I stretch and sigh. I tiredly drag myself away from the silken zebra printed comforter and fall out into the living room. The black leather style couch flashes boldly against the deep cobalt blue of the opposing walls, calling me to it. Of course I oblige the billowy haven, crudely plopping down and curling into a ball.
I feel the nudging of a cold wet nose implying it is time to organize breakfast. Hearing the impatient pattering of paws on the linoleum floor awaiting the burst of aroma that will fill the air signaling them it is time to consume their hearty meal. Slurping of water along with the crunching of the beef flavor kibbles fills the kitchen.
While waiting I can prepare my fresh pot of black silk coffee. A few tastes of pure bliss are all I can enjoy before a loud slam comes from the back door. It is time for the enthusiastic puppies to train. Stepping out into the blistering heat I see the death of the landscape surrounding me. My motivated canines track their training course for a few scorching hours before nap time.
These minor moments in my existence remain most worthwhile. For somebody on the outside looking in these might not appear like much more than just awaking, nourishing, and training my canines over my morning cup of coffee. On the other hand when you are the individual experiencing it, these remedial responsibilities can appear like so much