Well Trained

My dogs are at my bedside the instant my feet touch the floor in the morning.  The bounce about like they have springs attached to their feet.  They twirl in circles.  Apparently, twirling in circles helps them get what they want.

I grope my way to the bathroom, where the dancing continues.  Up and down and around they go.  Worthy of any trained circus dog.  Any pictures that I have tried to take of this morning dance have been nothing more than brown fuzzy blurs.

I stagger into the kitchen, followed by the Yorkie Dance Team.  Before I get the coffee on, which is the most important part of my day, I grab the jar that holds their treats.  As I unscrew the top, the dancing and whirling escalates.  You would think that a ham bone for each was awaiting them.  But the treats are small.  Smaller than a quarter.

By now, they are standing on their hind legs in anticipation of goodies in their near future.  I give each of them a treat.  Jessie runs as fast as her short little legs will carry her back to my bedroom and hides behind my bed to eat her treat.  And Lily is off and running in the opposite direction to hide behind the coffee table in the living room.  They don't share well.

By the time I get the lid back on the jar and start my morning coffee, both are back in their beds, where they sleep until the middle of the morning.

I, on the other hand, am still struggling to get my eyes open all the way.

They have me very well trained.