The alarm goes off at 5:30am…BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! My face, still buried in the pillow, reluctantly rises just enough to allow my arm to reach out in desperation to hit the snooze button. There. Peace.
Moments later, “Yip, yip, yip!” goes the new client dog. This is the story of my life when it comes to checking in a new puppy (or even older dog) to my resident training program. As I begrudgingly drag myself out of bed, stuff my feet into flip flops, and fasten a robe around my waist in utter grumpiness the yipping escalates, and the dog is now like a tornado. The crate is actually rocking back and forth in MayTag washing machine fashion. By the time I am able to unlatch the crate door Fluffy has now turned into a Tasmanian Devil cartoon character, jumping, spinning, hair flying. If I am lucky I will avoid a bump to the lip.
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