So, this morning I awoke to a cold, dark, drizzly day. I pulled the blanket off the pooch and he looked up at me as if to say "You have GOT to be kidding me." I gave him a scratch on the head, picked him up out of his warm spot, and took him outside for his morning potty break. When we came back inside, I disconnected the leash and prepared his breakfast and a pot of coffee. When I turned back around, though, he was gone.
Little devil had snuck into Ms. K's room to get his snooze on.
So, I went about the morning routine - showered, dressed, got all my stuff together - without my usual canine shadow. "I guess he's alright with missing his 'goodbye treat,'" I thought to myself.
As soon as I picked up my keys, I heard the muffled "k'thump" of him jumping off Ms. K's bed, and the jingling of his tags as he ran to perch by the front door for his customary morning Milk Bone.
Little stinker. I'd wager a dollar to a doughnut that after he finished he went straight back to her bed.