I spend the first part of every morning sneaking around. I wake up in the morning and creep to the bathroom, hoping not to wake up the dogs. When I fail miserably at that I attempt to slip them out the door to walk them before they wake V up. But the bastards are traitors I tell ya! I don't care what anyone says, Huskies are noisy. Okay, so they may not ever scare off an intruder with their ferocious barking, but they will drive you insane with the wooing, oh the wooing. Someone really needs to tell my big dummy Chet that if I'm standing at the front door in yesterday's clothes, shoes on, ball cap serving double duty to hide bedhead AND raccoon eyes, leashes in hand, poop bag stuffed in a pocket, he really doesn't need to stand at the top of the stairs yelling his fool head off that he wants to go out. See that description up there buddy? It sorta means I know.
And what does the wooing bring? Why it brings V to the top of the stairs, still in jammies, expecting to 'help' with the walking. And she knows I'm powerless to her crying while trying to tame the wooing...at 5:45 am. 5:45 is way before coffee kicks in.
Why all the sneaking you ask?
Leopard print jammies, pink sparkle-toed sneakers and a poofy hat with a sateen ribbon. Yep, I let her dress herself. Nope, she doesn't get her fashion sense from me, I'm more of a jeans and teeshirt sorta gal. I managed to convince her she didn't need her purse to walk the dogs, but still. The women's walking club actually had a few members stumble when they encountered us, we're lucky none of them broke a hip.