There are early morning people and early morning dogs. Hubby is early morning. Dusty is early morning. The SJG is more 7 a.m. than 6 a.m. By 7, I'm blog-ready. Today, I had to be more or less functional much sooner. Hubby is in Vegas, for a meeting that started this morning at 6:15. In my humble opinion, that's unconstitutionally early. There ought to be a law outlawing such a business-related rendezvous. It's not right. But I guarantee he was more awake than everyone else in the room, even the East Coasters. He was just made that way, which is why he takes the early morning shift with Dusty, and I take the mid-afternoon. But this morning, I rallied. I woke up before the alarm. I got my ass out of bed. I unchained the front door and Dusty took me for a walk.
Did I smell over there yet?
Turns out, he's much peppier at 6:30 than he is at 2:30. He's actively on sniff patrol, hunting and gathering new scents, checking out where other dogs have gone before, on lamp posts and tree stumps and patches of grass. It's his job to smell stuff. It's my job to let him.