Heat wave, day five. Can’t take it. Wasn’t I just lamenting about the cold? Scratch that, give me some snow!
IT IS HOT. We’ve had temperatures over ninety-five since Sunday. Saturday hovered at 88 or so. This is no fun. I won’t even mention how I broke down and got an air conditioner. We’ll have to save that for a time when I have the energy to tackle the juxtaposition of environmental and sociological liberal guilt pangs and almost being late for work on the first morning of its use due to a blissful sleep. Let’s instead talk about cooling off the old-school way– with cold water and a blue plastic pool.
Pool, K-Mart. $12. Janky hose, from the basement. Free. Doesn’t reach the backyard so we make do on a little patch on concrete. I get in first. The dog tentatively follows, his eye peeled for soap of any kind, bar or bottle. This is not bath time, I try to tell him. It’s fun! After I stomp my feet in the water he stops drinking it long enough to stick a paw in. I make a rash decision and scoop his sixty-five pound self up and ungracefully deposit him into the water. Aha, he likes it. And we’re in. But he keeps drinking.
I splash him a little and he bolts but comes back in seconds. Not so bad. He sticks his entire head into the water, resembles a duck looking for dinner. Snout comes back soaked. He heads out and rubs his face into the grass; I guess that wasn’t fun. But no, he is back for more, and sticks his face in again. It’s like watching a toddler learn to hold their breath for the first time. I scoop up the water and splash his belly. He stays put. I try doing the same on his back. He stays put.
Water fears conquered, kind of. The next night he ambles right in, drinks a little and pees. I guess he got really comfortable.
It’s day three. We just stepped out. I think I’m going to have to refill it. 7pm and ninety-nine degrees. City backyard pool party time!