a short story by Joni Hendry
([email]caddis11 [at] hotmail [dot] com[/email])

I rub the sleep from my eyes and wish I could laze in bed all day long. I snuggle deeper into my covers, but the sun keeps spilling through my window, bright and warm on my face. From down stairs I can hear the fireplace hissing and my mother in the kitchen fixing breakfast. It’s Sunday morning.

Misty, the family poodle, jumps on my bed and starts licking my face urging me out of bed. He wakes me up this way every morning since I got him as a puppy. A birthday present I received when I was six. At the age of seven he still acts like a puppy sometimes. I finally get up and go downstairs. Misty traipses behind me, tail wagging, barking to be let out. I can smell the pancakes and hear the sizzle of bacon frying.

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