Dog Tired: Prologue

Harper's persistent pawing at my face and nuzzling of my ear woke me up.  "'Harper' my middle-aged butt," I thought.  "'Harpy' was more like it!" I'd been up until 3:00 working on a graphic for a new BBQ joint getting ready to open in town. Specializing in pulled pork and specialty coffees, Pork and Beans, wanted me to design a logo around a dancing, gas-passing pig.  It had taken most of my contracted time to convince them that a pig juggling bags of coffee beans might attract more customers.   Being a freelance graphic designer is not as glamorous as it sounds.

Which is why at 8:01 AM, I wanted nothing more than to pull the covers up over my head, but Harper didn't care.  Harper, kennel name CH Sunstroke's Tequila Mockingbird, JC, is a 5 year old brindle and white Basenji with a stubborn streak as wide as her kennel name is long. Her normal breakfast time is 8:00, and apparently she felt she had "starved" long enough. I remove her paw from my nose and reluctantly got up--cursing her and her entire breed under my breath.

This wasn't at all fair to the only male in our household, Pop Tart, aka "Poppi," who truth be told, was always willing to sleep as long as possible. Talk about my kind of dog! However, he jumped out from under the covers immediately when he heard the kibble going into bowls and charged into his crate for breakfast.  A crated Basenji is a Basenji who will not try to chew his other Basenji friend's face off while eating.

Both their trim dog bellies now full, they were ready to come out of their crates. Poppi began playing his favorite game--try to put the leash on me while I run excited circles around the room! My peace lily took a header off the end table as he bounced off one of its legs.  At least during the time it took to clean up the mess, the coffee finished brewing. Pork and Beans had given me a sample bag of their "Jump out of Bed and Squeal!" ("JOBAS!") breakfast blend, so I could better understand the concept they were tryng to sell.  All the coffee in the world will never make me a morning person. After tasting a sip of  "JOBAS!" I felt all the real coffee in the world may never make me feel like a person again.

In need of caffeine nonetheless, I grabbed the coffee added low-fat creamer and managed to corral Poppi by luring him with a blueberry treat into a corner near the pantry.  Harper had been impatiently waiting at the door to the pantry as she knew where Poppi's juvenile antics would lead. At only one and half years old, once he wakes up he has more energy than a Pork and Beans large espresso. 

The sun gleamed on the basenjis' coats as I stepped out the door with my hot coffee in hand. Harper's light stripes became more visible and Poppi's black, tan and white coat (called "tri" for short by Basenji enthusiasts) shimmered like glass. Looking at the dogs frolicking ahead of me as we approached the sidewalk, I thought maybe I actually could face the morning.

That's when all hell broke loose. A German Sheppard came flying out my neighbor's front door closely followed by his owner, Mr. Gato yelling, "Aqui', Benito, Come!" Benito obviously did not speak Spanish or English, as he took off at a run and headed straight for Harper and Poppi--mostly straight for Harper since he adored her. Like an 8th grade cheerleader being forced to endure the attentions of the captain of the chess team, Harper glared and snarled.

I tried to place myself in between Benito and Harper, but Poppi picked that moment to come to Lady Harper's defense. Poppi's leash wrapped around my right ankle tipping me off balance. Benito jumped back at Poppi's unexpected challenge, and Harper sensing weakness lunged after Benito.

My left shoulder headed in one direction and my right ankle turned in another, I learned why yoga will never be my exercise of choice. My coffee flew up in the air and completed a beautiful arc before crash landing on my back, sprawled with the rest of my body on the ground. 

Mr. Gato finally had his hand on Benito's collar and was dragging him away.  "You have such mean dogs!  Benito just wanted to play! You should get nicer dogs," he proclaimed as he dragged his paragon of virtue out of my yard.

 By now my "vicious" beasts were standing on me licking the coffee off my soaked tee shirt.  "Caffeine, just what they need," I thought as I lectured my neighbor in my head on our suburb's leash laws.  I struggled to get up and was forced by the impatient Basenjis to continue their walk in spite of the fact that all the caffeine was now in their tummies and on my shirt. 

Five blocks later and the sounds emanating from my Basenjis made me wish I hadn't convinced the owners of Pork and Beans to rethink their logo. A flatulent pig would have been the perfect symbol for the eatery if my dogs were any indication.  By the time I got back to my yard, I had a whole new understanding of what the "Squeal" in the breakfast blend was, also.  I was almost ready to thank Benito for my only getting two sips of coffee until I saw the other mess he'd caused on my grass.

Follow along for the rest of Bree's day in upcoming posts.