Togo Goes Unseasonably Dog Day Summer

It’s hot. And I’m not built for hot. 

In Abilene, we’ve already had twenty-nine 100+º days this year. And the forecast keeps ‘em coming for at least 5 more. That’s hard on everyone and everything.

Even on plants. Of course, everything seems to be hard on plants around here. A couple of years ago, the Big Freeze killed almost all of Momma’s Indian Hawthorn shrubs. And I really liked them and it was sad when Daddy had to dig them all up. And then Momma planted new ones. And they are really not built for really hot. That’s why when you drive by our house on these really hot days you’ll see this. Really.

Indian Hawthorns are considered drought-resistant once they get older. But these youngsters have a hard time and their leaves get sunburned. So Momma rummaged through the garage and some closets and found these shade devices. Momma says we don’t use them for anything else, so this seems a good thing to do. (By the way, did you know that despite their name, Indian Hawthorns are actually natives of China and not India? You’re welcome.)

People are always asking Daddy if I stay inside on these hot days. Daddy tries to change the subject because those people always gasp, cluck their tongues, and shake their heads. But the thing is — I don’t like it inside. So I’ll only come in for a little while. 

I’ve developed what are called coping mechanisms. Generally, that just means shade, cool grass, and moist dirt. My backyard has a lot of shade. And I have a couple of grassy spots and one particularly nice moist dirt spot that Momma wets down every morning to make sure that the moist happens. I snuggle into these spots and get real still. Natural cool. Matches my personality.

Many people tell Daddy to get me a wading pool. He tried that a couple of times. The problem is, I’m not really a get-wet kind of dog. And swimming pools are made from the same materials as many of my chew toys. So, in my mind, all I can see is a giant, water-filled chew toy. 

Daddy does pour water on me on the hot days. I pretend I don’t like it. But I really do. Especially the part where I start shaking to get it off. Daddy moves faster at that moment than any other time of day. I have to admit, giggling — and the evaporative effect — does make me cooler. 

Daddy told me that these were like the dog days of summer. However, technically, the Farmers Almanac I keep in my dog igloo, says that the dog days of summer are from July 3 to August 11 this year. And that those will be our hottest days. Something about the dog star, Sirius, aligning with the sun. Don’t tell anyone but the dog showed up early this year. I’m serious.