It happens everyday. First thing. Riley gets up and I let him out the back on a leash for his morning pee (I walk him later). When he comes in, he has a determined look in his eyes, and he begins a low growl that grows into a mini howl, and sometimes, when he wakes up really hungry, even into a bark.
For my part, since I can talk in words, I say, “You want a treat? Is that what you want? Should we get a treat?” (As if it were ever in question that we would get a treat.)
We walk to the cabinet, I open it and ask him to sit, which he does obediently, and then I give him a Greenie, at which point, he turns around and runs out of the room to privately dine on it in the hallway or den.
This is ritual. And for some reason this bit of communication between me and my dog, is often the best part of my day. I think it is the true feeling of speaking to one another, and I guess the utter excitement that I can see this treat is for Riley. He is so in the moment. And I guess maybe I am too. In the moment with my dog and a teeth-cleaning bone. I am grateful for it every single damn day.