Puppy energy might be the end of me

Authorized chew of wrapping paper tube in the basement.

This was Sunday morning:

5:45 a.m.: Angus wants out of his crate.  He wanted out at 1 a.m. and 2:30, too, and Doug took the early shift and I took the mid shift but both of us woke up both times and now that it is morning (more or less) I am playing possum, hoping that Doug will spring him and I can get a little more sleep.

5:50 a.m. Doug has taken the dogs out to pee, and now Angus has raced back up the stairs and is bouncing up and down at the side of my bed.  I haul him up into the bed and he grabs a hunk of my hair and wants to play tug.

6 a.m. I make coffee and take one sip before Angus starts sniffing in a way that might mean he needs to go back out.

6:01 a.m.  Ahhhhh it's above zero.

6:10 a.m. Back inside and down the basement, where Doug is reading the paper and there are authorized chew toys as well as rolls of brown paper that we have given up to the puppy. The puppy prefers to chew on the fringe of an afghan on the futon. It must remind him of my hair.

6:11 a.m. I take a second sip of coffee.

6:12 a.m.  Rosie is barking at the back door. No idea why; she's already been out, but I go back up the stairs, Angus at my heels, and open the back door.  Rosie races around and barks (sorry, neighbors) and Angus zooms across the yard, eats some sunflower husks that have fallen from the feeder, races back across the yard, find a crumpled dead leaf, zips back across the yard, grabs a stick.

6:15 a.m.  Third sip of coffee.

6:16 a.m. Angus somehow breaks out of the basement and I go back upstairs to see what he needs and, more importantly, to see if he's peeing.

6:17 a.m. Fourth sip of coffee interrupted by Angus chewing on the edge of the dog bed. The sainted dog bed where Riley died!  Has he no sense of history? Go find the Bitter Apple and give it a spray.

6:45 a.m. I cannot tell you what happened between 6:17 and now because I can't remember but trust me, I only got one or two more sips of coffee and almost no newspaper reading done. On account of puppy shenanigans, bringing Angus outside repeatedly, urging him to pee, but he does not pee.

6:50 a.m.  I feed the dogs.

6:55 a.m. I put Angus back out because sometimes he likes to do his business right after he eats. But not today. Instead, he zips across the yard, eats birdseed, finds a leaf, etc.

Totally fascinated by dead leaves.

7 a.m. Back in the house. Rosie has retreated to her crate. Angus positions himself in front of it and does the most adorable play bow ever.  Rosie just stares.

7:15 a.m. Angus suddenly and totally conks out.

7:16 a.m. I go make a fresh cup of coffee.

These times start out precisely right but the first two hours of the morning quickly became a blur. I was trying to keep a running schedule in my head as all of this was happening, but there was too much. By 8 a.m. I wanted a nap.

This morning--Monday--started the same: Angus wanted out at 5-something-or-other a.m., and Doug let him out. Then Angus raced up the stairs and hopped up and down at the side of the bed. I hauled him up into bed with me, fearing for my hair. But this time he snuggled into my arms, let out a tiny contented moan, and fell fast asleep.