"One degree more," Sachi threatened, "and I am going to SCREAM!" "One degree more," Bella called out from her cave under the chair, "and we will break a 55 year record."
It was 103 degrees F at the prime of the day. But it had been hot already when we awoke. Steve and I met a friend for breakfast and as I held on to the door frame to enter the car, I had burned my hand.
"What can we do to make the White Dog Army less uncomfortable," Steve asked and then followed up with ice cubes in the water bowls, shared chunks of watermelon, and gentle brushings which yielded an entirely new fur army. Poor Ferguson, new to our region, was sort of shell shocked as he panted and ultimately found comfort lying against the chest freezer in the kitchen.
"Too bad none of you are swimmers or like the idea of a pool," I said. "Cool water would feel good I bet." Steve looked at me..."are you thinking what I am?" his eyes asked.
Storm was a mess from her coltis...Yo's ruff full of melon juice...Sachi was panting under his huge double fluffed coat...and Puff LOVES baths. "Let's do it," I agreed! "Baths will cool body temps and loosen some of that stubborn remaining winter coat, and the slow process of drying naturally will stretch the benefit a couple of hours at least." And the towels, if we hang them out in the inferno will be dry in ten minutes.
We knew it was hot as Steve carried each into the bathroom and no one protested. After they only wanted a blotting with dry towels before shaking themselves thoroughly, rolling around on the carpet, shaking some more and resettling with a contented sigh to dry.
I opened the book. "The House at Pooh Corner, Chapter Four. In which it is shown that Tiggersdon't climb trees." At this rate we may need to go to the library for a new book Monday morning if the heat continues.