Morning Becomes Fig

Fig is definitely a morning person. If I am not out of bed by 6:30am he will begin scratching at the door, sometimes pushing it open and trotting into the room with his plume of a tail held high. He then looks at me with big round eyes and gently chastises me with a series of faint "hahs." He is at his friskiest and most affectionate in the morning, excited to greet the new day and take up his sentry post on the front porch. Even though the mornings have been chilly of late, Fig is eager to partake of them, seemingly impervious to the cold that sends me running for warmer clothing.



He is certainly a different creature by night - much less affectionate, more fearful, and drowsy. Night is something to be endured - preferably slept through - until it is time to get up and go outside again. Of course, on those evenings when the temperature is mild enough for him to sleep in his crate on the porch he is rarely in it; I have observed him watching the nocturnal activities of our local fauna with great intensity. In those instances I suppose that the stimulation of being outside supercedes his morning orientation.



I wonder if people and animals take on each other's orientation to morning or evening. I am a morning person by nature, and delight in the sight of Fig happily chasing a bug around the porch in the cool sunshine. In those moments, we are one in the joy of a new day.