father time

Well I once again fell off the blog wagon.  I think that's twice in one month and I have no excuses.

Well except, the fact that I am one more Real Housewives of New Jersey episode away from adding a faux fur vest to my winter wardrobe and the fact that pug discovered mornings.

Our first vet had recommended when pug was just a puppy to do a once a day feeding.  Now don't feel too sorry for him he fills up on loads of treats, kleenexes and the occasional magazine cover throughout the day.  It's just worked over the last six years.  I'm such a night owl catching up on work or the laundry that we'd feed him around midnight and he'd fall right asleep.  I'd finish up a few more things, then head to bed myself.  I honestly don't think my head has hit the pillow before midnight in a decade.

And no matter what pug happened to be doing when the clock struck midnight he'd be sure to remind you over and over until that food hits his bowl.  It's the weirdest thing, you'd think we had a grandfather clock or a hidden alarm in the house.  How do they know this stuff?  So, that's how he got the nickname "father time". 

Then comes Landry.  He was used to 2 feedings a day split in half, so we thought it would be easier to change pug to that routine.  Why I was worried it would mess him up still baffles me.  He took to it well.  A little too well in fact because he now has something worth getting his sleepy self up before the double digit hours.  So "father time" has know been striking twice, once at midnight and once around six, seven, or eight (if I'm lucky).

Oh the wee morning hours, it's punishment for this night owl.  I beg for just five more minutes, but they never let me have it.  But rest assured, once they finish their breakfast they head to the couch for a nap while I watch on in envy.