The pack usually gets up at 6 AM so I can go outside to my bathroom and avoid a crate mishap. All in all things are going pretty well in that department. Then there is quiet time, where we read or reflect. We don't really start rolling till 8 or 9.
Stephen and Kathy don't usually let me have a paper book, but it is a good chance to check my PeeMail. It is amazing how much junk ends up in an inbox. But there is one mail that shows up that I like, it is called Digg. What puppy would not adore a mail service called Digg? I was born to dig!
Today they had a story about a Hip Hop classic from 1984 called Rockit by Herbie Hancock. I listened to it a couple of times on Snouttube. I love the combination of synthetic sounds and the analog scratching of an LP. Hey, I want to scratch an LP, (or maybe chew it).
I am not supposed to climb stairs until I am six months old and my bones are ready. So, we use the elevator. It is just like a crate, but has two doors for going in and two doors for going out. Between the doors and the motor it makes funny, but predictable noises. Two of the lights burned out and Andrew, the elevator man, came to check it out. This was our first visitor to the lair. Until now, the pack has just been Stephen, Kathy and me. Will he come back? He took off his boots when he came inside. There have never been boots on the landing since I have been in my forever home. He smells different than Stephen and Kathy. He smells different than me.