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Just keep wagging.

As you no doubt know if you read my blog, we adopted a new dog a week or so ago. One of the reasons we chose this boy was because he was described as ‘mellow and timid’ and because he’s nine years old. Yes, we like taking the pups no one else is interested in, but we were also attracted to the ‘mellow and timid’ part of that description. It’s pretty easy going around my house. Everything runs smoothly and there’s no real craziness or drama. Our girl Gigi is almost 11 years old and pretty much goes with the flow. You can ask Gigi if she wants to go outside and she may just look at you and say, ‘Nah, I’m good.’
Most mornings in the Karabin household start with the hubby getting out of bed say around 7:30, leisurely taking a shower and getting dressed, and then nudging Gigi awake so he can take her out and feed her breakfast. I usually wake up right around when he’s leaving for his office, say 8-8:15, to find Gigi asleep again next to me and then I leisurely start my day.
Enter our boy Blue. This is how our mornings look now. At about 6:30 the hubby hears him rustling to get out of his crate. The hubby tries to quietly get up, put on a pair of shorts, open his crate, and get his collar on before he shoots like a rocket around the bedroom and out to the kitchen door. He goes outside and does his stuff then races back in the house and dives…and I mean catches air…from the door of the bedroom to me on the bed digging his nose under my arm and wagging his tail a million miles a minute. At 6:30 in the morning. (And he doesn’t stop moving until the hubby leaves and I want to make the bed, then he lies there snoring and won’t move.)
The first day this happened I was like, ‘Um, yeah, no.” I mean what the heck happened to the ‘mellow and timid’ dog we adopted? So I kind of had a talk with the little man. “Blue, honey, I do adore you, but we’ve kind of got a routine down here and it would be oh so cool if you could try to ease in to your day a bit more.” And he just looked at me. He looked at me with these big dark, round eyes…kind of like a baby seal…and wagged his tail a million miles a minute. In other words, he said…
As I write this, he’s lying at my feet and seems to be having a pretty wild dream. The feet are moving, he’s making those muffled barking noises, and yes, his tail is going a million miles a minute. The lesson here?
Just be grateful every second for what you have.
 And always wag your tail.
Live and learn in Munay.

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