The Dog Days of Summer

Not sure whether they live with me or I live with them, but I’m very blessed to share my life with Zoey and Shiloh; a couple of crazy, wonderful collies. Most of the time they’re festive, frolicking fools, running me ragged with their mischievous misadventures. However, when it comes to the oppressively hot, humid dog days of summer, these two go into what can only best be described as “standby mode.”

As I sit here in our backyard gazebo writing this, it happens to be one of those “standby mode” days. They’ve both joined me out here; Zoey is flopped in the anti-gravity chair looking like a limp biscuit in a collie costume, and Shiloh’s curled up on a wicker love seat, pondering how many pre-chewed dog toys he’d have to sell on eBay to purchase a one-way ticket for himself to Gnome, Alaska.

They will lay around this way for all of eternity on days like this, only getting up—after much contemplation about whether it’s worth it or not—to go slurp up about a million gallons of water from their bowls, come see me and drool half of it onto my lap, and then go back to being collie-skinned rugs somewhere throughout the rest of the heat of the day.

I guess I should be somewhat grateful for times like these, as when the weather is cooler they more than make up for it with their elaborate shenanigans.  Just ta few days ago, when the weather was about 30 degrees cooler, I went out to mow the lawn—leaving them inside, as they find high excitement in trying to attack, and eat, the motorized beast that ravages their grass. As soon as I started the mower, Zoey flew at the screen door; barking, yipping, and jumping up and down with wild abandon. Glad that they were in instead of out, I continued to mow—collie free. Once I finished the lawn and went to go back inside, I found that Zoey had accidentally—or so she’d have me believe—locked me out during her frenzied fit. Her paw had come down on the screen door latch while she was doing her dance moves with the door. When I peered inside, I saw two collies peering back out at me, with broad, sinister smiles on their furry little faces. I guess they figured they showed me who was boss.

And of course, during all these long, hot, humid summer days while Zoey and Shiloh have nothing better to do than to lay around doing absolutely nothing, I don’t have that luxury, as I‘ve got a "to do" list longer than both of their tails combined, and can’t just kick back all day like these two carefree lounge lizards.  

Once the end of the day finally comes and the temperatures drops, I’m exhausted beyond all reason from working like a dog and desperately just want to lie around for a while, like they’d been doing. But can I? Not a chance, because now that Zoey and Shiloh have spent the day being dead dogs, they’re finally ready for some action, and aren’t content unless that action involves me.