A Special Morning

Daddy awoke just after dawn. Slipping quietly out of their bed so as not to disturb his precious beloved, he dressed and made his way downstairs. George, their happy mutt still slept as well on his bed downstairs, thankfully. Had he noticed the usual sounds of daddy getting dressed for the day he’d have been running up and down the stairs making a hell of a racket. Daddy clipped on his leash and whispered, “come on buddy lets go for a walk.”

Down the steps of the deck they went, up the gravel road to the barn as fingers of light from the rising sun danced around them. Turning into the barnyard, he grabbed a pair of rusted old clippers from the fence post where he’d absently left them a few days earlier.

“Ok buddy go have fun” he said unclipping George and the happy canine took off to investigate the intoxicating smells that dogs love so much.

Daddy followed the mowed path around the field stopping here and there to snip a few of the many wildflowers now in bloom. Black-eyed Susan’s, asters in half a dozen colors, Queen Anne’s lace, purple and pale lavender iron weed, and many more he didn’t know the names of. Pink and blue and yellow and white and every shade of purple. Lots of purples.

Stopping at the far corner of his land, he looked back across the sparkling dew covered meadow and thought of her sleeping in their bed, so cute and beautiful to him, and how much he adored her. And looking at the meadow, he smiled to think of all the fun they’d had playing there, both like children and as lovers.

By the time he’d finished his walk around the meadow he had a massive bouquet of wildflowers in his hands.

Stopping at the creek he watched the happy ducks paddling about and tossed them their breakfast before they came up on the bank to quack loudly in demand for it.

George, seeing him heading back toward the house, fell in beside him anticipating his own breakfast which Daddy scooped into his bowl as they regained the deck.

Laying the flowers on the table on the deck he looked out at their footprints in the dew showing where’d they’d been. His in a circle round the meadow, George’s every which way all over the open grassy field he called the playground. Feeling his love for his furry best friend, he reached down to give him a loving pat, “you love it here dontcha boy,” he said then laughed, “this must be like heaven for you.”

Fetching a large vase and filling it with water, he arranged the flowers in a bouquet. Then poured out a cup of coffee for himself and sipped it while he prepared her breakfast, hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows, fresh strawberries in cream, and a chocolate cupcake. He placed it on a small tray he carried in one hand and lifted the vase of flowers in the other, climbed the steps quietly and slipped into their room. Setting both on a small table by the bed, he placed a tiny candle in the cupcake and lit it.

Crossing around to the other side of their bed, he sat noiselessly next to her for a moment to study her sweet face in a state of utter love with his babygirl, before lightly brushing her hair back and kissing her on the forehead.

“Good morning Princess,” he said as she stirred awake, “Happy Birthday.”

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