You know it's hot when anything cooler than 90 degrees seems reasonable. For the most part I can handle the heat. It's just something that you sorta get used to after awhile. Especially with a little help from a great invention called air conditioning.
Well the same can't be said for my best friend, my second in command. I am of course referring to Rocky, my 11-year old black lab that is weighing in the neighborhood of 118 lbs or so at the moment. To put his current physique in perspective, he's been as high as 141 and as low as 105 during his 'adult' life. I think it's also worth noting that the term adult applies to age only as his maturity level seems to rival mine at times.
OK let's just be honest, Rock-O wasn't built for this weather, nor will he ever get used to it.
All of this leads me to my main point which fascinates me. Under no circumstances must Rocky be alone. Heat be damned. While I sit outside on my back deck in the sweltering July heat, Rocky has to be close by, even if it means a non-stop panting show.
I try my best to keep him inside under the cool watch of the AC, but the second I shut the door, he starts banging on it with his big paws to come back outside. It makes no sense but it's a game we play.
Here's a picture of him waiting to come outside to experience, yet again, the horrifying heat -
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| This is where the line starts to get outside. |
Peach brah
