I walked back inside, turned on the television to find more and more commercials on The Weather Channel and less weather. Maggie sat at my feet watching me stoically. That is her way of letting me know she needs to go out for a potty break pronto. The constant staring will turn into muted mews in a few moments. Having a young dog is like having a kid except, hopefully, your kid doesn’t lick their butt.
Soon, the smell of brewing coffee in my apartment will be accompanied by the smell of frying bacon and the sound of eggs cracking and sizzling in the pan. I am feeling adventurous and nouveau riche this morning and might just have a cheese omelet instead of my usual plain Jane scrambled. Ok, my stomach is telling me to quit writing about it and to get to cooking. Good day.