The early morning rattle settles down, the last door slams, the car leaves and the dog calms down and returns to his basket.   By this time its just gone 8 am and I’ve been pretending to still be asleep since 6:30 am.
About 30 mins later I haul myself out of bed and start feeling a little more alive. A quick shower and dressed in warm clothes – double layers of Black Milk tights works a treat and I’m ready. The dog. I call him so because he belongs to my girl friend. I’m not terribly maternal, I don’t dote, fawn and only occasionally pet. I prefer to stick to the routine and give him a pat when he earns it. Like sitting own before we cross the road the first time he’s asked not the 10th.

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Once I’m ready I pop his harness on him and we head out the door. He loves going for a walk, playing ball, in-fact any kind of attention at all so by this point he is SUPER hyped up and I keep a gentle tension on the leash so he will walk obediently beside me and not strain the leash. Eventually he calms down and does so. 
20 minutes of very brisk walking we get to the park having successfully sat before crossing each road so as not to get run over.  I love to walk briskly as the air is quite nippy and if we don’t move fast my fingers go a little numb. I’m warm by the time we reach the park or the Green as its been officially named. Surrounded by parrot filled trees its pretty. But it is also there to separate a section of clone like subdivision housing from a section of noisy high way!  Ignoring the Stepford-ness of the area we get down to the serious business of playing ball.

This dog, Murdoch could play fetch all day. I think he would still be compelled to run after a ball even if he was near the point of exhaustion. Occasionally he lies down after dropping the ball back at my feet on the damp grass to cool down his belly.

There are few other people in the area when we are there. An elderly pair of ladies doing Tai Chi by the play ground, an occasional fluffy scrap of a dog gets gingerly escorted past us the owners not realizing this Staffy is a useless teddy bear attempt at living up to its breeds generically fierce stereotype  And the construction workers on the adjacent site walking occasionally across the park to the bathrooms. I often imagine them thinking enviously about how they’d rather be playing with a similarly butchy dog rather than being at work. Nope this lesbian is dog walking today, not you.

The walk back home is calmer. Once we arrive home I refill his water bowl because he is still panting like a tongue flapping maniac. Half a bowl later I think he must feel allot better. Food. Breakfast for him and lunch for me. As I pack my lunch up he follows me continuously around the house ball still in his mouth. How can he not be worn out? We were out for about an hour?!  Before I leave I check he done his business so we don’t return to any unexpected accidents. Fortunately that’s only happened once, when he first arrived and since then he’s dutifully marked every tree corner on our morning walks and has a special spot he uses just past our bedroom window out on the back lawn. Oh and that’s another thing, when I say lawn I don’t really mean it. Our place and many many others I walk past every day have astro turf lawns. Fake grass, that lusciously deceiving green colour patched down on every second front verge.

And that is my morning.

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