Mornings

Another day with no picture.  

I get up early.  Most weekday mornings around 5 AM.  Many mornings I come downstairs and both girls (now that Sage sleeps downstairs) are still sleeping.  Murphy never stirs, but Sage will look up, from inside her soft crate, and watch me walk around, doing my pre-run routine: get the newspapers, pour orange juice, check the news on-line.  She settles back into her sleep when she realizes I am not going to get her up until I get back from my run.

It's quiet in the morning.  The only sound is a dog breathing, clocks ticking away the time, my computer keys if I am typing.  But listening to the girls, their sounds, evokes a series of emotions: comfort, love, joy, worry.  I sat with Sage for quite a long time last night before I "zipped her in," just talking with her, worrying that she seemed to be afraid to put weight on her leg, again.  Two steps forward, maybe one back.  I keep reminding myself, as I listen to the girls in the morning, that being loved and loving yellow labs is a process.  Ebbs and flows.

Murphy's day and Sage is back to sleep.