
Rituals and routines are so much a part of everyday life. We don’t always think about it or understand we are doing a ritual/routine; we just move and act like everything is normal, sometimes acting like a robot.
Routines are part of our everyday life, get up, eat, shower, get dressed, and go to work or school. Routines are safe for us; we enjoy the safety and comfort of our usual patterns. Our children thrive off routine, so they also feel safe and know the rules, can navigate their day, understand the expectations, and find security.
When something or someone interrupts our routine, our world seems to be turned upside down. When that something is a puppy, an Australian Shepherd puppy with head tremors, it seems like what was normal is not even thought of again.
Our mornings typically began at 5.30 when my grandson was dropped off, had instant breakfast, and went back to bed. After that initial few minutes, our first minutes would include tea, oatmeal, or breakfast, shower, hygiene, and getting dressed. Ready for our day. He is home-schooled, and I work from home, so the rest of our morning depends on my session schedule.
Well, Miss Daisy May came into our lives, and our morning begins at 5.15am. She has the wiggles and wiggles so much her booty will start moving before the rest of her body does. She has a yappy morning talking voice and will paw at you until you are up or get her from her kennel (this depends on how she slept because if she has been up already at 1am, 3am, and any other time before 5.15am, she is on the floor in my bedroom),
She will herd me to the door: this involves her moving next to me and using her body to steer me to the door. If I stop for anything, she will get in front of me and ‘talk in her yappy voice’ to remind me she is the one in charge.
When we finally make it to the back door, she goes out, stops, looks at me, and I have to say, ‘Go potty.’ She shakes her head and moves to do her business. Coming back all proud and barking at the moon, trees, or anything that moves. I am sure my neighbors love her morning routine.
When she comes in, she will go to my Chiweenie’s kennel and tries to open his cage door. When she can’t open his kennel, she will run to herd me back to his and demand I let him out. Duke- the Chiweenie- gets out and slowly moseys to the backdoor. He will look at me with unbelief and a bit of discussion. He walks slowly and decides if he is going outside or stopping at the bed in the living room. In her true fashion, Daisy tries to push him toward the door. He growls and snaps at her, eventually moving to the door and reluctantly going outside.
We use Live360 to keep track of my grandson’s movements, and it has an annoying notification when he is close to the house. This goes off at about 5.45am. Daisey has learned that sound means: my boy is coming to play with me. Her yappy barking is now full blown bark with excitement that she can’t hardly contain, making her lose her bladder a bit and puddle all over as she jumps, twists, and leaps toward the gate (if outside) or door (if inside)
Finally, we are all inside again; my grandson makes his instant breakfast, I finish my tea, the dogs eat a snack, and we go back to bed for an hour because the sun is not up yet.
Duke goes to his kennel, hunkers down in his blanket, turns a few times, and returns to sleep. Daisy walks to her kennel but turns around and moves to the bed in the living room -which has been moved to the hallway.
Now our first hours are over, and we can breathe until Daisy May recharges.