Monday Morning Mav Said Please Don’t Talk to Him!
Mondays are hard for most of us, but no one makes it more obvious than Mav. While some pups are bouncing off the walls the second the sun rises, ready for breakfast and a walk, Mav has his own version of Monday mornings. His message is loud and clear without a single bark: “Please don’t talk to me right now.”
The scene usually begins with Mav buried under blankets, eyes squinting at the first trace of morning light. His tail, normally a golden blur of happiness, barely twitches, as though even wagging is too much effort to ask for at the start of a new week. If you so much as whisper his name or suggest that it might be time to get up, he lets out the most dramatic sigh—a sigh that could rival any teenager being asked to clean their room.
Breakfast doesn’t even lure him right away. Instead of racing to the kitchen, Mav prefers to lay with his head flopped dramatically across the pillow, glancing at you like, “Five more minutes, please.” Sometimes, it’s not until the aroma of food fills the air that he begrudgingly slides off the bed, moving slower than molasses in January.
What’s funniest of all is how expressive he is about it. If you try to encourage him with your cheeriest “Good morning, buddy!” you’ll often get the side-eye—an unimpressed, half-asleep glare that clearly says, “Human, I told you. Not. Right. Now.” And heaven forbid you attempt to slip on his harness too early—he will sit down, resist, and insist on waiting until he decides it’s time.
Once he finally makes it outside, Mav’s Monday mood continues. Instead of bounding around the yard or rushing for his favorite sniffing spots, he plods along at a snail’s pace, nose barely grazing the ground, acting as though every step requires monumental effort. His usually perky ears hang low, and even the sight of a squirrel doesn’t inspire much enthusiasm. It’s almost as if he’s saying, “Squirrel? On a Monday? Not worth it.”
Of course, as the day moves along, Mav’s attitude shifts. A mid-morning nap, a cozy cuddle, and maybe a treat or two are usually enough to lift his spirits. By the afternoon, his golden sparkle begins to return. The same pup who was giving you the silent treatment at dawn is suddenly prancing around with his toys, ready to play fetch or demand attention.
But those early hours? They belong to Mav’s Monday mood. It’s a mood that many of us can relate to—the struggle to shake off the weekend, the reluctance to face another week of routine, and the desperate wish to just stay curled up a little longer.
In his own way, Mav reminds us that it’s okay to have slow mornings. It’s okay to sigh, to take your time, and to not always greet the day with boundless energy. Life isn’t always about rushing into the week—it can also be about easing into it, at your own pace.
So if you catch Mav on a Monday morning, remember the golden rule: approach with caution, bring snacks, and above all, don’t expect small talk before 10 a.m. He’ll come around eventually, but until then, it’s best to let him live out his grumpy, adorable “please don’t talk to me” vibe.
Because let’s be honest—Mav isn’t just a dog on Mondays. He’s all of us. 
