He really is a pussycat in the morning.  When I go to my study at 5 AM, we usually play a game of ‘who gets the chair’ until he resigns himself to sitting on my desk, overseeing the writing.  Occasionally, he’ll put a gentle paw on my hand when he thinks a word or phrase is wrong.

The sun is up now, and he’s taking his place on the woodpile as the guardian of the house – Katy the wonder dog is better at announcing burglars than stopping them.  But, as I walk back from the car after my morning chauffeur duties, he fixes me with a stern gaze, warning me to keep his safe secret from the other critters that will pass through our yard today.

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