WHAT ARE YOU WAGGING AT?
Where did my parents move us? Heatsville USA? Going outside in the heat has become such a stressful ordeal that it has made my paws melt and my fur feel like one of my blankets after they come out of the dryer thing. Not that I do laundry. I leave that for my parents, but the fact of the matter is that it’s freaking hot outside.
I’ll admit, I’m spoiled. I like the inside temp no higher than 75 degrees. Any degree higher and I demand the AC click on. I go by the rule that if I’m panting inside, then the thermostat needs to be turned to the left.
I’ve heard the neighbor’s dog (Eddie) barking a lot outside. And then I hear the parents yelling at him to stop barking. Do I need to translate what he’s saying? He’s saying that it’s too hot for him to be out in the backyard! You don’t have to speak canine to understand that. Sometimes I wonder why humans are considered the superior species. All we dogs hear from you is,
“It’s too hot outside!”
“I can’t stop sweating it’s so hot!”
At least you can sweat. Try panting til your tongue falls off just to cool off a tiny bit. And being covered in fur from head to paw doesn’t exactly provide a cooling effect when the sun is beating down on us. So don’t hate the dog, hate the heat. A thermostat at 75 degrees is all that I ask. And if your dog is outside–especially if you live in the Valley–then let them back inside.
And when you’re enjoying your summer, relaxing in the AC, take a moment to help out my friends over at the ASPCA. Four legged friends are friends for life.
Sniff ya later…
My name is Chloe.
I am a Springer Spaniel.