Not-So-Fleeting Hot Dog
I just called time and temp . . . it's 95 degrees. The online weather service says it's 98, with 45% humidity, which translates into a heat index of 102! I don't know the math behind all that, I just know what I read online and report. I'm reporting because I have a dog who thinks the house is too cold. How do I know what my dog is thinking? Well, read the story, then tell me what you think she's thinking:
It's 2:00 p.m. and I am happily ensconced in my airconditioned house, doing the usual, surfing the Internet, pretending I'm getting something done around the house so that Old Man doesn't do one of his eye-rolls when he comes home from work. Girlie-girl Dog gets up from her fluffy pink bed to tip-toe over to me and begin the Wee-wee Dance. It's really cute, y'all. Girlie-girl is a small black dog, so when she begins to dance her black nails beat a distinct fast-paced rhythm on the tile floor.
But, I also know what this means - she wants me to go outside in 102 degree heat! I can't just open the door and let her out. My yard isn't fenced and besides, all the best dog behaviorists say that this is the perfect opportunity to bond with your dog. If you walk with your dog, you are buying into the 'pack' mentality and your dog will behave as a subordinate dog in your 'den', which translates into a better behaved dog. Remember, Dear Reader, I just report what I read.
I try to talk Girlie-girl into ignoring her bladder problem. "Oh, Girlie-girl, it's too hot outside. I know my big girl can wait just a little while until the sun goes down, can't she?"
She responds with the Wee-wee Dance.
"Now, Girlie-girl, go lay down."
Wee-wee Dance and worse, tail wagging.
Sighing at my burden, I heave myself out of my recliner and put my shoes on. Oh, the sacrifices I make for this dog!
Girlie-girl and I walk to the very front of the yard, maybe 100 feet or so, at least until I found the shade of a tree. I watch as Girlie-girl circles, sniffing the ground, no longer in need of the Wee-wee Dance. Her circles are large, gradually becoming smaller and smaller. Soon, she's circling in a tight little circle, only about half her size, then she lays down. Lays down? Not . . . the other?
"Girlie-girl, c'mon. Get're done. It's hot out here." I'm already perspiring.
It's not often that I see a genuine smile on a dog, but Girlie-girl, is smiling! She is panting, but smiling, too.
In a huff, I head back to the house, calling the dog. I turn when I reach the door to see where Girlie-girl is. She is still out in the yard, panting and smiling in the sunshine. She finally runs back to the house when I open the door to go in myself.
Can I ever trust the Wee-wee Dance again?
© 2011 Carol Phares
It's 2:00 p.m. and I am happily ensconced in my airconditioned house, doing the usual, surfing the Internet, pretending I'm getting something done around the house so that Old Man doesn't do one of his eye-rolls when he comes home from work. Girlie-girl Dog gets up from her fluffy pink bed to tip-toe over to me and begin the Wee-wee Dance. It's really cute, y'all. Girlie-girl is a small black dog, so when she begins to dance her black nails beat a distinct fast-paced rhythm on the tile floor.
But, I also know what this means - she wants me to go outside in 102 degree heat! I can't just open the door and let her out. My yard isn't fenced and besides, all the best dog behaviorists say that this is the perfect opportunity to bond with your dog. If you walk with your dog, you are buying into the 'pack' mentality and your dog will behave as a subordinate dog in your 'den', which translates into a better behaved dog. Remember, Dear Reader, I just report what I read.
I try to talk Girlie-girl into ignoring her bladder problem. "Oh, Girlie-girl, it's too hot outside. I know my big girl can wait just a little while until the sun goes down, can't she?"
She responds with the Wee-wee Dance.
"Now, Girlie-girl, go lay down."
Wee-wee Dance and worse, tail wagging.
Sighing at my burden, I heave myself out of my recliner and put my shoes on. Oh, the sacrifices I make for this dog!
Girlie-girl and I walk to the very front of the yard, maybe 100 feet or so, at least until I found the shade of a tree. I watch as Girlie-girl circles, sniffing the ground, no longer in need of the Wee-wee Dance. Her circles are large, gradually becoming smaller and smaller. Soon, she's circling in a tight little circle, only about half her size, then she lays down. Lays down? Not . . . the other?
"Girlie-girl, c'mon. Get're done. It's hot out here." I'm already perspiring.
It's not often that I see a genuine smile on a dog, but Girlie-girl, is smiling! She is panting, but smiling, too.
In a huff, I head back to the house, calling the dog. I turn when I reach the door to see where Girlie-girl is. She is still out in the yard, panting and smiling in the sunshine. She finally runs back to the house when I open the door to go in myself.
Can I ever trust the Wee-wee Dance again?
© 2011 Carol Phares
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