I don’t know when I started using the rise and shine greeting. I emit the slogan more for myself than the dog. The part she likes is the ear rub and the head scratch that accompanies my close talking and, possibly, a kiss on the deep crevasse that runs down the center of her boxer-like skull.
Ellie’s initial beckoning wake-up moans and groans only occur after she enters the bedroom around three o’clock in the morning. I’m usually in a semi-dream state, but I sense her staring at me. I don’t even need to open my eyes before saying, “Lie down; it’s not time to get up.”
I rise with the sun, having not used a clock in my bedroom for over fifteen years. I’m blessed with a gift that starts with a bedtime thought about what time I need to get up. And with that, I will wake up on time. I cannot explain it, but it works. I have so many things I cannot do. This one thing at which I am entirely successful makes me slightly elated.
The hour following my sermon about the fact that it’s not time to get up only includes fitful dozing. It’s not unlike a church service with a boring speaker. Some dozing is to be expected.
Ellie makes noises as she lies there, trying to remain silent. She’s no different from a criminal who recently heard their Miranda warning. They don’t want to talk, but silence is difficult for some people. And Ellie, of course.
I never get out of bed until she is completely silent for a few minutes. I don’t want her to believe that the last peep is the determining factor for my rising.
Once my feet hit the floor, and I stretch out the painful plantar fasciitis, I search for a bit of attire, don it in grand style, and then wander toward the bedroom door. The dog stands by the other side of the bed, waiting for me to pass.
I stop, bend down in the darkness until I see the faint glow of her gray chin and eyebrow hair, and I gently rub her ears and say, “The sun is rising, and it’s going to be a good day.” I mean it, but I know it’s not wholly accurate every single day. She doesn’t care. She says nothing.
It’s probably the only moment of the day when I know there will be no argument. I like that.
The sun is rising, and it’s going to be a good day.
From the jagged edge, we remain,
Thanks, everyone, for supporting the blog page; showing up to read my stuff makes writing worthwhile. Many have helped out with donations, but the page is here for all to read regardless. Thanks for buying the books and helping me call myself a writer. I appreciate all of you. Tim