hank and i are very comfortable with routine. week days, i typically wake up pretty early (6ish) and head right downstairs for coffee. i always set the machine the night before so all i have to do is press one button. hank usually sleeps a little longer and comes trotting down by 6:30. he likes to have his breakfast straight away, while i need my one and a half cups before my scrambled eggs. after eating, hank likes to go outside for his potty. he is pretty quick about this and then goes back to sleep in his favorite sofa corner. sometimes, when he’s had a particularly arduous playdate the day before with his girlfriend dharma, (this is his second girlfriend… ellie moved away) he goes back upstairs and returns to [my] bed. it throws me when i don’t see his big bat ears poking over the arm of the sofa and i walk around the house calling for him until i remember his secondary routine. (unfortunately, hank doesn’t really understand about weekends when i would love to sleep maybe all the way to seven. he sits over me and sighs and breathes noisily until i open my eyes to find his face hovering mere inches above mine.)