Scooby wakes me every morning before 6am. With his cold, wet nose, he pokes me in the back. And he does so persistently until I rouse, and get out of bed to feed him. I’ve yet to conquer this moment. Jessica, on the other hand, is a master at this. She’s learned to ignore his advances, either pretending she’s asleep, actually sleeping, or simply ducking under the covers until he stops. Scooby has learned, over the past few months, that I’m the softy. I mean, who can sleep with that going on? And putting the blanket over my head is out of the question. iIm too claustrophobic and warm-blooded for that.
So i get up, feed Scooby, make coffee and then let him out to empty his bowels. It doesn’t sound too glamorous, but I’m getting used to it.