Friday Five: Hot Hot Hot!

The Typist and I have decided to play this RevGalBlogPals bit together. See my answers first, then hers:

1. What's the high temperature today where you are?
Cub: Uh, hot!
Typist: The forecast is for 97 degrees, cooler than some recent days and some expected next week.

2. Favorite way(s) to beat the heat.
C: Either sitting on the top step of Ms. Lynn and Mr. Steve's pool, soaking up to my shoulders (Wet Dog Alert!), or stretching out on the cool tile in the front hall. OR, Frosty Paws.
T: My more selfish, sinful, and costly ways include cranking up the A/C and camping out under a vent, opening up the side-by-side freezer and standing where the door would be when it's closed, and turning the car's A/C on full blast even though I know it sucks power away from my dutifully functioning four squirrels -- er, cylinders. Less selfish, sinful, and costly, but also less available: wading in a chilly creek and falling down accidentally on purpose.

3. "It's not the heat, it's the humidity." Evaluate this statement.
C: It's all of it.
T: I have to agree with the four-footed furry on this one.

4. Discuss one or more of the following: sauna, hot tub, sweat lodge, warm-stone massage.
C: I think those things fall under "Not for Poppies."
T: Sauna, no thank you. Hot tub, like 'em in the right weather (and this ain't it). Can't comment on the sweat lodge, but warm-stone massages are nice when they are a free upgrade from your regular massage.

5. Hottest you've ever been in your life
C: That time we were in the tiny room with zippers on the doors and windows, out by the lake and The Boy and I panted half the night and weren't allowed to go chase whatever was in the brush.
T: Ah, yes, the camping trip to Oklahoma. I think I'll agree with you there. (At least you didn't have you and The Boy panting directly ON you, like The Alpha and I did.)

Non-temperature related bonus: In your opinion... who's hot?
C: Rex and Tuxedo. But Tux was a little chunky the last time I saw him.
T: The Alpha, of course; also Nathan Fillion and I'm sure some assorted other musicians and movie stars I can't think of right now.

Tidbits

• The thumb-havers have stopped taking showers outside. Nice to be back to the usual routine.
• I think they've been shorting my food allotment by a mouthful or two lately. No, I am not fat! But apparently they want to keep it that way. And you know what? I do, too. Uncle Ren doesn't really even look like a dog. I like looking like a dog. Because, you know, I am a dog.
• Early mornings have been nice for sitting out in the yard, but it still gets pretty hot every day around here.
• Miss Cathy came to see us yesterday! I love her. And she loves me. And I love her for lovin' me and she loves me for lovin' her. And we loooooove each other. (Apologies to Roxie Hart.)
• The Alpha gave me a brushing last night. He gleaned a pomeranian-sized amount of undercoat. Even if the process is kind of annoying, I do feel a little cooler now.

Abnormal Activity

Yeah, it's been a week since I posted. That's like a month in dog years or something. Suffice it to say there's been a lot going on.

First, no Alpha for a week. (DOGS on the PEOPLE bed...wheeeeeee!)

Then, friends over! (Including wee dog Winston -- and yes, The Boy, at 40 pounds, is still afraid of a chihuahua.)

Then, we got to pile in the car and go to Church to pick up The Alpha. (The Boy got to see lots of people I'd met before and he hadn't; plus, he wanted to get in the big white van. I don't know why. Also, we got to sniff a daschund.)

And since The Alpha got back, the thumb-havers have been taking their showers in the backyard. It doesn't really make sense, but then, neither does showering every day, if you ask me. Something about the big tank in the hall closet and not being able to keep a fire lit under it, and The Typist calling a plumber, and it being the weekend and this not being an emergency, and them filling this big bag with water and leaving it out in the sun, then taking their showers with what comes out of the bag. Oh, and them being really glad we have a privacy fence.

Yes, definitely some abnormal things happening around here. Must be that "new normal" I keep hearing so much about.

Got in trouble.

It's all better now, but Friday night there was some yelling in my direction. You see, they turned on that big hot thing in the kitchen and made sweet yummy cookies for thumb-havers. And one of them was given to the Maris (see "What's a Maris?"), who thought it was still a bit too hot and gave it to her Mom, who then let down her guard, and the cookie, to my nose level, right on the arm of the couch.

So I ate half of it.

I would've eaten the other half of it, too, if it hadn't been for the yelling. The Alpha and The Typist did all the shaming and hollering and everything, and after a few minutes it was all okay, but I certainly did not get any more cookies anywhere near my nose that night.

Oh, and Maris was very good. And I'm not just saying that because I got to eat half her cookie.

Misuse of Sticks

Once again -- I'm pretty sure this happened in the dining room last year -- the thumb-havers rubbed various sticks against the wall over a period of several days. No chewing them at all.

Yeah, the staging area for w-a-l-k-s (or entryway, or foyer, or front hall) looks different now, but that doesn't really concern me much. It smelled a little different for a while, too, which was interesting. But thankfully I know better than to stick my nose in one of those buckets (I learned that when I was a puppy and they were rubbing sticks against the wall in the room where we watch that flickery box thing while I take naps on the couch).

So, The Typist didn't have much time for typing for me in the past week. Too much other stuff to be done. Also, we had new dinner guests -- nice folks, all thumb-havers, no poppies. Thank goodness, because sometimes it's just embarrassing to watch The Boy get his pack order challenged by a chihuahua.

Oh, and tonight The Alpha got The Boy all wound up. "Don't encourage him," said The Typist. Which made absolutely no difference.

Nicknames

If I had blog categories, this would be one for the "I Don't Get It" file.

Two trips to Arkansas ago, The Boy and I got new nicknames. Gavin, the short little thumb-haver who spills lots of food on the floor and himself, came toddling through the living room at Grandma and Pop's house, greeting us with "Hey Tub," and "Hey, Anus."

Okay, obviously we knew what he meant. But we get the impression we're missing something in the translation. While The Typist nearly fell of the couch doing that silent laugh thing, The Alpha's first response was, "Oh, that's never gonna get old." And, now, maybe once a week or more, we find ourselves referred to as Tub and Anus. They seem more inclined to use Anus than Tub, because for some reason it's funnier.

Like I said, I don't get it. Glad they're having fun, though.

Home Adventure Kit

1. Take one home security system;
2. Add a really big thunderclap;
3. Observe interesting loud siren-type noise;
4. Bark a lot.

That's pretty much the adventure The Boy and I had tonight, all without leaving the yard. We had a teeny little storm, really, but the thunder wasn't playing nice, and so the house siren decided to play back, and then it quit, and then nothing happened for a while, and then somebody came around on the other side of the fence and we did our Ferocious Barking Act even though I was pretty sure it was only Mr. Jim, who I love, and then some other guys with big lights came and we kept up the Ferocious Barking Act, and then a few minutes after we calmed down The Alpha and The Typist came home. They seemed a little goofy about going to all the rooms in the house and looking at windows, but other than that, things were normal. Sorry they missed it all.