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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1771334-Happy-Sundays
Rated: E · Short Story · Animal · #1771334
The love for pets can be great, though there are limits. This puppy has a lot to learn.
It’s just early on a Sunday morning when I’m being awoken by an eager, wet thong. For a moment I think I’m still dreaming and I’m grinning under the idea, hoping the dream will continue. After some short panting and whiskers picking against my cheek, I suddenly realize who has awoken me.

“Yes Jozef, I’m awake,” gently I try to stop him.

Without any result. The young, enthusiastic Golden Retriever concludes my laying still as still sleeping and now puts in the big guns. A fluffy paw lands mercilessly on my nose and if that’s not enough he starts his morning ritual, licking the boss until she is awake. I know he will not stop until I get out of bed. I love my charming, hairy puppy, don’t get me wrong. There is little I wouldn’t do for him. However, this also means the sweet rascal comes in my bedroom every single morning by sunrise to lick me awake. And trust me, he doesn’t give up easily!

“Come on, stop that now. I’m awake you see?”

Since I don’t wish to hurt him in his sweet intentions, I give him a quick stroke on his snout. After that I turn myself around in bed and hide under the blankets to protect myself from Jozef’s relentless tongue. Just one more minute… mmm… how lovely are those relaxing, free Sundays…

“Damned, I’m already awake!”

Startled by my sudden frustration Jozef jumps off the bed. With his head hanging he crawls to the corner of the bedroom, from where he sends me an injured look. I groan and look up from my with hairs and slime covered pajamas to the dog. My face feels sticky and also my hair could really use a shower. With that I’ve not even taken notice of the dirty smell which lingers around my person.

Still I can’t take the sight of him looking at me, while he sits in the corner waiting for me to call him back. A pair of big blue, begging eyes ask me what on earth he did wrong. He means it so well and knows no harm. How can I possibly stay mad at him? I should in fact be proud at this little puppy that does such an effort every day to make sure his boss gets to work on time. My heart melts and I give in.

“Come here puppy, it’s all right. Let’s get you something to eat.”

The young Retriever happily jumps up and runs towards me. Again, I can’t avoid a warm hug, with all its slippery consequences. I guess I have to teach him the meaning of Happy Sundays!
© Copyright 2011 Celine Morret (celinemorret at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1771334-Happy-Sundays