Akitas are a very interesting sort of dog. Since they have the triangular heads and curly tails of huskies, they are often mistaken for that breed but they’re definitely not huskies. They’re also not bullmastiffs.
We’re used to bullies (short for bullmastiffs). You need a lot of kitchen towels with bullmastiffs, especially if you have a male, and lots of food but otherwise, you’re pretty good. They basically sleep all day, every day from sunrise to sunset. When they wake up, they groan in complaint, get up to eat, then fall asleep right after exhausted from the exertion. If you, as the caring owner, should force them to walk, they will grudgingly oblige, but need to sleep for several days afterwards to recuperate. They don’t like toys, or ropes or bones or dig or anything but their cushions. If you don’t get a cushion, you might find a bullmastiff in your bed. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. These guys like comfort.
Akitas are very different. They have a lot more energy and a lot less bulk so they can follow you into places where you want them (like the laundry room) and others where you’d like your privacy (like the bathroom). They have a very inquisitive nose which means, on a walk, they have to smell every new scent in the area and that little walk will take forever. Or longer. And they like to dig. A lot. Which means the backyard is more of a dirt-covered mess with holes scattered here and there.
They also have an internal clock whose accuracy could rival Greenwich.
Every workday my akita wakes up a second before my alarm. Not a problem. I like having her around as I get up, get ready and make coffee. I make her breakfast and mine and we eat in silent companionship.
The problem is the weekends.
Our akita doesn’t understand about Saturdays and Sundays and, when I don’t wake up at the standard time, she protests by coming over and licking any bits of me that are poking out of the covers. I’ve tried telling her to go back to her cushion, I’ve tried leading her back to her cushion and I’ve tried begging. Akitas, it seems don’t really care about comfort, cushions or pleads. So, inevitably, I end up awake before 6 am and, on a Saturday, that’s just wrong.
I told her something to that effect this morning when she started licking me at 5:30 in the blessed morning. Her answer was decisive. More licks and some doggie breath.
I was cursing her amazing internal punctuality and moving like a zombie through the still-dark house when it hit me.
Daylight Savings Time is coming. Oh poop.