The Agreement

The Agreement

I was eating my toast in bed this morning when the whole fam damily showed up to watch. Since two members of the family are four-legged, it’s not uncommon to have all the company when I eat. That’s the agreement.

See also: that one time Dan made me a strawberry waffle.

But you know, sometimes I enjoy eating without the dog panting on my food. His breath is awful now that he’s getting wet food on the daily to sneak in his liver meds.

Izzy seemed to think I needed some alone time this morning though. She jumped down off the bed and swaggered out the door, catching Boomer’s attention first, and then Dan’s.

“I guess we’re just going to go see where she’s taking us,” Dan said from the hallway. “It’s a parade!” A few seconds later, I heard him plop down in his chair and settle in to watch an episode of The Orville. Boomer, no doubt, curling up on the floor beside him.

About that same time, Izzy popped back into the doorway, her tail a question mark. She confidently strode back to my bed and jumped up as I took another bite of toast. The she did what I call shrimp pose, and went to sleep at the foot of my bed. Leaving me unbothered until I was done eating.

When I finished my toast and caramel coffee, she got up and made her way toward me. She purred and slammed her head into my fist a few times. Then she eventually landed on her back next to my shins as I sat cross-legged on the bed.

It’s the posture she takes when she wants me to give her chin scritches and massage her front leg pits. I obliged, thanking her for her services and promising not to call her a jerk later today when she starts knocking over lamps and scooting the remote inch by inch across the nightstand until it falls on the floor.

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