I think everybody around here is suffering from the hot-climate version of SAD. It’s brutal out there. Last weekend the humidity was actually 90%. Not the 90% that people say, when they’re hyperbolizing about how hot and humid it is. Really 90, according to the national weather service. In case you’re wondering, at 90% humidity you feel a lot like you’re having a heat stroke, even when you aren’t. Nothing your body does to cool itself does any good. It’s hard to breathe, even. When it isn’t crushingly humid, it’s pushing 100 degrees.
Silas can’t even do his favorite summer thing, which is to go sun on the patio. He tries, but he’s too hot in five minutes. At the park he lasts about ten.
Instead, we’ve been in the doldrums. We take naps on the sofa. We train a few tricks, but nothing is terribly new right now.
Not that I’m here to complain; that isn’t what I meant to do at all. I’m just explaining the lack of fun dog-related content. It’s snooze-ville around here, while we do our summer hibernating. I’ll buck up.