FISHING FOR THE GOLDEN CATCH

GREETINGS FROM SOUTH AFRICA!

MAXMOM here...

In the morning, I wake.  A fog of light-headedness surrounds me and I know not to open my eyes yet.  Instead, I dangle my arm over the edge of my bed and smile inwardly.  Fishing!


Oddly, this feels like old times. Years ago, my father and I would sit on the sandy bank of the dam, with our fishing rods in hand as we waited for that first nibble on our lines.  Wonderful, serene, bonding moments.

This time, however, I'm in bed, accompanied by my imagination. The 'Boss' had an early start this morning and I've not got the energy to do the same.  I'm alone and I flutter my fingers to bring me back to the present.  With my eyes closed, I wait...

I hear them rise ... then stretch.  I keep my eyes shut to take in all their sounds. Their gentle movements and yawns echo my own welcome to the new day. Then the soft padding of paws coming towards me.  Which one will be first, I wonder? I enjoy this guessing game.

An icy wet nose touches my warm palm and I shut my fingers briefly.  Then I open them again and run them along the hairy snout.  A silky tongue languidly traces the contour of my hand.  I hear a contented moan and a slow shuffle as my dog sits down next to my bed and nuzzles my hand.  It's Toby - my "Sweet Hooligan".  Only this morning he's anything but a hooligan.  Rather, his gentle demeanour fills my heart with tenderness.

He shuffles closer and I move my hand towards his soft ears.  I've still not opened my eyes.  I fondle the cool fur and then break the contact to adjust my pillow and move my head closer to the edge of the bed.  This time, and still with my eyes closed, I turn to my side and reach out with both hands.

Toby leans on the edge of the bed as I stroke his head with my left hand and rub his shoulders with my right.  He's so beautiful and I trace the contour of his solid frame.  He licks my face and I open my eyes briefly to see the first sunbeams dropping onto his golden coat.  I watch, in awe, and continue stroking him.  Then I shut my eyes again to preserve the image.

Weariness still hangs over me and I drop my hands.  The edge of the bed rests under my armpit.  I'm fishing again, I know.

There's another lazy shuffle and another snout touches my trailing fingers.  Now there's two dogs and I splay open my fingers to touch them at the same time.  

Tammy's fur is coarser and there's the distinctive wart on her snout.  My hand brushes the shoulders of both dogs and, in a gesture of understanding, they move closer to one another.  Now my hand is wedged between two warm, furry bodies.  I wait...

This time, the sound is a little different - a brisk scurry of little feet.  Toffee's cadence is always brisk and purposeful. Somehow he always gets the news last.  A tiny wet nose finally reaches upwards to also touch my palm and join the pack.  Three snouts touching one hand at the same time - an affirmation that we all start the day together.  This is "fishing with a difference" and I finally open up my eyes and reach for the biscuit tin.

Have a wonderful, happy day, with your pack.

Sending lotsaluv (and early-morning happy licks)