Saturday Morning

I was awake and moving unusually early for a Saturday morning, and my mind was brimming with possibilities for what I might accomplish. Leaving my room, where various pets were sprawled out on the bed and across the chairs, I was on the top stair when I heard the familiar sound.

ka-THUMP.

That's undoubtedly Ranger leaping off the bed to follow me wherever my day might take me. My furry red shadow.

Our first stop was the office, where my husband was innocently entertaining himself online. What a rookie mistake. He was a sitting duck for my long list of weekend project ideas. As I paused in the doorway to inquire about his schedule and pose a few suggestions about how he might spend his time between the Big Ten football match-ups of the day, something cute happened.

Sleepy little Ranger shuffled into the room, hopped up on the couch by the window, and settled in for a cozy nap in the sunshine.

Screeeeeeeech. 
That was the sound of all my day's ambitions coming to an abrupt and violent halt. Because, suddenly, my morning agenda became abundantly clear.

So I silenced my ringer, clicked a few keys, and balanced myself precariously along the edge of the dog-filled couch,

Ahhhhhh.
That's the sound of my unmitigated bliss. For the next hour and a half, I watched Netflix and dozed in the sunshine with my sleepy dog.

And that, my friends, is a truly splendid way to spend a Saturday morning.