Shuffling Into The Day

My wake up alarm, the announcement
of another day’s arriving, is the sound of
shuffling steps along the tile hallway.
Slippered feet sliding across the
hard stone surface.  Little steps in
the darkness, cautious but relentless.
A sound like sandpaper on hard wood or
whispers of steam escaping from the radiator.

Abruptly the shuffling ceases,
silence consumes the sleeping house.
I know what’s coming next.  Lie still,
maybe she’ll leave me alone.  Tense,
teasing moments pass.  Then from
the blackness, a cold wet nose
nudges against my unwelcoming hand.

I feign sleep but with no success.
Two large brown eyes are mere inches
away, staring.  Steely laser beams
riveted on my forehead.  I wait.
The eyes wait.  I roll to the other
side of the bed.  The lasers shuffle
after me and lock on again.  I surrender.
Throwing back the covers,
I reluctantly set my feet on the cold floor
and we shuffle off into the day together.

Good morning, Maggie.
Good dog.