The Morning Ritual...

Every morning is the same routine. The alarm clock goes off with its annoyingly cheerful beep. This causes a great deal of stirring in the covers. Various arms and legs move about in hopes that one appendage or another will make contact with the snooze button. Mercifully it does. This allows everyone the luxury of pretending that it was all a horrible dream, and the peaceful cocoon of sleep remains intact. Unfortunately, the illusion is just that, an illusion. Again the dreaded alarm beeps away. More stirring. More waving of appendages. More snooze button. After about three or four more times, the illusion is shattered.
By this time, it has become clear to all of the furry quadrupeds in the house that soon, very soon, food will fall from the sky. It begins with that dreaded alarm, followed by the peering of a face from out beneath the covers. Yes, out and food become the morning mantra to small animals everywhere. The dog takes this moment to wave his arms frantically. It seems to be sending the message that If I don't get out soon I will explode here in a ball of fur and shit! Movement from the bed is emanate. Now the cats leap forward. Time for the morning obstacle course. Oh, to make it out of the bed and into the bathroom just once, without the constant meowing throwing of little fuzzy bodies under ones feet! Paradise takes many forms.
Now it is too the stairs. Arms, legs and furry tails tumble together in one giant heap to the bottom of the stairs. The meowing is louder, the dog more frantic. Shoes, where are those damn shoes! A coat, mittens, and yes, finally the dog leash. Back! Back, Damn Cat! Finally, outside. One can still hear the muffled cries of furious cats while they beat their tiny furry fists upon the door. Oh the injustice of it all.
Now begins the mad dash down the street to an open field, any open field. This tiny twelve pound dog somehow manages to literally drag a full grown woman down the street. The sun is blinding, and sleep has not yet fully removed itself from her personage.
The dog dances about, desperate for relief. Unleashmeunleashmnpleasepleaseplease! he seems to mutter rapidly. Zoom! He is off. Slowly it begins to dawn on her that damn, its really cold out here. The dog pays no heed. He is looking for that perfect blade of grass, the best trampled spot, the most odiferous area in which to honor with his gift to the land. After what seems like an agonizingly long time, his morning duty is done, and he can now look forward to .... (gasp! dare I utter the word?!?) BREAKFAST.
Another stumble back towards the house, watch out for the light pole. Upon reaching the front door, the cats verbal abuse continues. The dog speeds through the two cats, sending them flying in tandem balls of fluff. Another obstacle course to the kitchen. One cat leaps to the table, and proceeds to smack the head of the provider as she reaches for food dishes on the floor. The other cat races to the laundry room, making an ill fated attempt to jump up on the washer. The gentle Bong rings loud and clear. The second attempt is successful.
While all of this is occurring, the dog sits patiently, staring intently. It is obvious that he is trying to use mental telepathy to inform the provider to hurry, drop something, anything. I will save you from any food that may have gone bad he seems to say. He has only her best interest in mind. Finally food is delivered to the gaping mouths.
For a moment, all that is heard is the sound of much snarfling and snuffling. Breakfast is done, nap time has begun. The morning ritual is complete.