When I dragged my butt out of bed this morning I could smell the coffee brewing, and my master's Kids were already stirring up a serious ruckus. It must have been around 7:00AM because the old man was scrambling about, in an attempt to gather his pocket fillings and heading towards the exit. I scurry over to the hat rack next to the door to see him off. He scratches my favorite spot, under my chin, before he vanishes for the better part of the day.
I can hear his old jalopy peel away from the neighborhood as I catch a whiff of the aroma escaping the kitchen. My priorities lie with the scraps that fall from above. I like to eyeball one of the lads until they drop some food from their plates. After breakfast I head for the yard to check the perimeter.