The Micah. We also address him as “Highness”. 190 pounds of entitlement in a sparkling brindle wrapping. Bred from some of the finest lines known to the world of English Mastiffs…and he KNOWS it. His collar is hand-crafted of a 6th Century Roman pattern with the words, “Cave Canem” hand-tooled in leather and adorned with hand-cast silver seals with King Arthur’s pendragon sigil to honor his legendary registered name of Indigo’s Arturius’ Cafall, CGC. “Cave Canem” was taken from a Pompeian mosaic of a mastiff circa 79 AD and is Latin for “Beware the Dog”. This is a ruse, His Highness is 100 percent wuss, and the epitome of a gentle giant.
Highness is suspicious of dew on the lawn and chooses the high, dry spot in the corner for his relief. Lord only knows what might be lurking in those droplets of dew. His greatest fear is being attacked by the dreaded chihuahua.
He awakens at 6 a.m., having shoved Mommy onto the floor at 3 from his king bed and having lost the battle for territorial bed rights to Daddy, who clung, white-knuckled, to the edge of the mattress and pushed back with his backside. As we sit bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived on the patio, Highness stumbles from bed, shuffles down the hall, through the living and dining area to the doggie door…and barks. You see, he learned early on that the doggie door is actually a wormhole that leads to an alternate universe…never to be broached. I put down my iPad, glance at my husband who is soaking his mustache in his coffee cup, teetering in his chair, eyes closed. I open the door for his Highness who drags himself to his raised bed and drops onto it with a “whumph”. I know…I should have carried him. Poor, furry child. He is already fast asleep.
Having been gently awoken by singing birds and a slight breeze, he checks his view of Camelback Mountain, finds his spot in “poo corner” and returns to the doggy door. Now it IS actually possible to cross back into the house from the outside, as the wormhole only goes one way…but only if the interior is well-lit, his staff is inside calling his name and a chilled organic carrot awaits him on the other side. It’s really much easier to just stare at the damned thing and bark again. “Yes, Highness. Coming, Highness!”
Daddy leaves for work and Mommy prepares his breakfast of canned rabbit with organ meat, organic coconut oil, probiotics, digestive enzymes, dermal enzymes, chicken and chickpea grain-free kibble and three chewy glucosamine mini-bones, followed by a fresh 2-quart bowl of water. When the last bite of kibble has vanished, Highness stands, staring at the vacant bowl as if someone took his popsicle away. “Micah, would you like to “Hoover”?” He takes a step back as Mommy moves his raised food stand over 18″,to the right, allowing him to “Hoover” any bits that may have dropped from his jowls onto the woven rug beneath. In the event that his Highness returns to the bowl, staring at its shiny stainless bottom, one must ask, “Micah, do you need littlebitmore?” He steps back again with anticipation as Mommy retrieves two more tablespoons of kibble, dropping them into said bowl one by one (so the plinking sound may be duly observed). He returns to the bowl for his “dessert” and then raises his head in gratitude with three 14″ strings of drool hanging from his chops. “Please, Mummy…dry my chin…if you would be so kind.” I retrieve a sterilized white cotton towel from “the drool bucket”, dampen it with warm water and wash the kibble from his face, ears, shoulders, chest, paws, forelegs, the top of his head, his collar…and mop the floor.
His highness will now have “first nap” as he digests on the woven area rug by the open french doors with a gentle breeze drying his face.
His Majesty’s day has begun.