My first duty in the morning, duty with a "t", is to feed the dogs their breakfast. The responsibility part of this task is often highlighted by 50 pounds of pit bull head being laid gently down atop mine.  Hard to ignore a fuzzy beanbag yawning above you.  Especially when it's licking you. 

In order to effectively feed the dogs, my first activity is to head to the bathroom to wash the sleep out of my eyes and prevent missing a stair on my way down to the kitchen.  With the frigidity of the current winter, this step also involves wrapping myself in my large fluffy bathrobe and slipping on my sensible around-the-house slippers. 

Down the stairs I go, two high-stepping puppies at my heels, picking up the various dog toys and food ingredients used as part of the morning feeding routine.  Once their meal is served, I get a brief 30 minutes to myself.  I sidestep to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee.  Coffee is lifeblood.  Coffee is the mother, the father, the innkeeper, and the holy ghost.  I like coffee even more than I like turtles.