What's Your Character's Perfect Morning?

I'm on late shift, but I'm up early. I pet my dog absentmindedly, enjoying the warmth under the covers
before I have to crawl out into the cold. He starts grumbling at me after a few minutes of belly rubs, demanding his morning walk. I smile and grump back at him in a groggy, sleepy voice before throwing off the covers and hurrying off to the icy bathroom to dress for the day.

He's bouncy when I get back. Eight years hasn't dampened his spirit too much, though he's more reluctant to go out in the cold. It's warmer than it has been in weeks though, and I happily let him drag me down the salted steps into two inches of fresh, dense snow. It doesn't blow and drift like it has for the past few weeks. My boots nearly squelch into it, rather than sending up little powdery puffs of ice crystals that sting my hands and lungs.

The black and white beast at my side has a spring in his step, grateful for the relative warmth. He darts from tree to tree, leaving massive tracks in the snow that are hastily followed by my skidding boots. Sunrise, pastel with the promise of more snow, eases its way over the horizon, casting everything in a soft glow.

After our morning ritual is over, it's time to go home. We tromp up the steps and kick the powder off of our feet. The smell of coffee wafts out the door, but I have to feed the beast first. He happily crunches through his kibble and slurps down his water before my lunch is packed. I throw his ball a few times while I wait for my bagel to toast, then settle back in the recliner to watch the fat flakes drift down as I munch on my breakfast and sip my steaming hot coffee.

I have just enough time to read a chapter or two of a book, which I crack open. One hand holds warm coffee, the other the smooth pages of a paperback. The dog throws himself at my feet, and, lacking a third hand, I rub him through the thickness of my fuzzy socks. He sighs contentedly, and I match him. It's a brief pause in the silence of the snow before the day's mayhem begins.

Soon, there'll be beeping monitors and whining, anxious dogs. Hissing cats and barking surgeons. It'll be hard to reclaim this moment's peace and quiet. But for now, it's time to enjoy the moment and be thankful for it.

What would be your main character's favorite morning? 

What's your favorite sort of morning?