White Dog and the others wagged their appreciation when I put the baby gate across the entry door and opened the house door to allow access to the sun porch. It was eighty-five degrees F.
I have been reluctant to remove the winterizing protection to the windows because our weather has fluctuated from the thirties to the eighties in the span of a few days, and then has swung back again. But I had to agree with the WDA, even with the ceiling fans twirling, it was hot in the house.
Opening the bathroom window drew in cooling air that attracted Sachi to nap against the tub. He is little enough that he can stretch fully against the cool old-fashioned enameled iron side and still allow access to the necessaries, thankfully.
His is a much better choice than Nilla and Benson who want to sleep directly OUTSIDE of the dog door, against the flap (Nilla) and inside (Benson). The rest of the WDA hates the gatekeeping and the need to beg the two to rise from their spots to allow passage in and out.
Later, I noticed our perpetual ant problem has reawakened with the warmer weather. Zso and Opal came in from enjoyment of the fantastic weather found in the shade of the yard. Zsofia rubbed against my leg and I noticed she was trying to rub two ants from her side. Opal bore a single beastie riding on the top of her head. The six-legged menaces plagued us last summer and defied any demands that they leave. I had hoped we will be spared this year.
Trixie was not subtle when she wandered out to the porch. She claimed the love seat out there last year when she arrived as her "summer place." Over the winter we used the love seat to hold a box of incidentals that go back and forth to the car. The crash of the box being pushed to the floor reminded me that it was time to go permanently into the van. Soon I heard the Big Beautiful Girl snoring.
White Dog has moved from spending "her" time deep in her bedroom in the closet to the airier fortress behind the watching chairs at the front windows. When it gets truly hot, she and YoYoMa have long staked positions that are perfect under Swamp Cooler breezes.
Everyone is tracking in seedy caterpillars from the mulberry trees who are sending off potential progeny in the thousands. Between toes, stuck to furs, on clothes, the seeds are impossible to avoid bringing inside. Sachi makes great sport of tackling them inside and tossing them in the air then chasing after until the thing disintegrates; he looks around trying to puzzle out where it escaped to before seeking out another.
As the trees leaf and the sun angle changes this is how I mark the passage of the season, in how my White Dog Army reacts. It is an entirely different perspective than watching the calendar.