White Dog, the other morning, insisted on joining Steve and YoYoMa for their morning exercise run. Now she is a beautiful runner as graceful as a breeze over the grass and as creative as a choreographer in her route cross the Park...but she is not a flat-out run straight toward the goal kind of strider. So this morning when the boys got up to go, she walked them to the door and bid them godspeed...that, and it was already in the middle 80's temperature-wise.
The swamp cooler kept the house a balmy 78 degrees F while outside the thermometer climbed to 96...and in the breeze-less shadeless sun, the temperatures seemed to approximate those of hell (at least that is what Michael announced when he came home from the Museum where he volunteers).
The White Dog Army long ago learned the rule of the desert: "When it is hot, sleep!" And so they did most of the afternoon, each finding a special cool spot in the house and settling in. With the exception of jerky time and very quick out then back in necessary breaks, the WDA has resembled a collection of varying-sized white shag rugs, albeit a bit lumpier, scattered across the living room and office.
Tonight it is slowly cooling down and we can hear the sounds of a live swing band coming from the Mother Road, Route 66, just a block and a half away. Perhaps like their brothers, the coyotes, now that it is dark it is time for the White Ones to harness up and HOWL!
Puff Update: The new cough suppressant is working better than the others but we know the minute the dose is wearing off for she is back to gasping and shaking from the cough. The steam room treatment seemed to make things worse, not better. We are struggling to get through the weekend since our vet's office has no Sat.-Sun. hours but we are worried that there are not more signs of improvement or at least a lessening of the cough's intensity. Please keep our little girl in your positive thoughts.