It’s hot. It’s humid. Perfect for a siesta. But definitely not perfect for a walk.
All I want to do is find a warm patch of grass, stretch out my legs, and rest. Doesn’t that sound nice to you?
But no. She doesn’t get it.
Walking a few blocks through this miasma is exhausting. I barely have the energy to lift my paws. But still, she persists.
My tongue lolls as I try to cool down. Not a pleasant feeling!
I flop my ears over my head to expose the overheating insides to whatever whiff of a breeze there is.
There is no relief.
Why? Why does she make me go out?
I’m comfortable where I am. Resting. Relaxing. Really the only thing to do in this heat.
She jingles the leash.
I keep my eyes closed. Perhaps she won’t see me if I don’t see her.
She steps closer, I sense her looming over my prone form.
I open an eye.
She’s still holding the leash. Does she want to go out?
Great. Go for a walk. Live it up. Why do you have to drag me along on your jaunts? I’m not stopping you. Go. Go.
I make sure to make my body as heavy as possible. Don’t lift my head. Don’t make eye contact.
She clicks the leash to my collar.
Now what?! She’s managed to tangle one of my ears in it. I must look ridiculous.
But, I have my pride. I know when I’ve been beaten. Staggering to my feet I wait. No point in making this easy for her.
We head out into the soup.