And it starts with...

waa waa waa from the alarm clock that my darned fingers set every night. Whatever fancies 97.1 FM's disc jockey at 6 o'clock in the morning is that which jostles my brain. It goes off (the alarm, and more oft than I desire, the brain too), every morning without fail.
And without fail, every morning, I drag myself out of bed at least an hour later. Some people have this gift; I know three: my mother, M.L., and Sirius.




Sirius is my docile husky-malamute yawning in the background, also attempting to awaken. He is more than a little annoyed at my shoving the camera in his face.



I am guilty of anthropomorphizing him (and the moss that I bought for the garden the other day), but how can I not when he (the dog) brings around with him a purple soft toy raccoon, crying in search for it when I hide it in the bath-tub? The scenario reminds me of Linus and his blue blanket. Everyone needs a little blue blanket... that cup of coffee in your favourite mug, that one song in your iP... (left blank for whatever it is they will come up with next for us to spend our money on), that one person you get on the phone with when that never-ending day has finally fizzled to an end...





The dog must have his raccoon.


It's alright Sirius, you just keep playing with toys at the age of forty-two (dog years of six multiplied by humanizing factor of seven). No need to hide it, we can all see it. Just one more photo please!
And now I must have my coffee.