I’m Melting

The Wizard of Oz’s Wicked Witch of the West isn’t the only one who melts. I do too.

Half the human members in my home are able to roll with excessive heat and half of us melt. As a melter, I’m lucky that Pettigrew isn’t a fan of heat either.

Together, we’ve been heading out earlier and earlier in the morning, trying to catch the last bit of nighttime cooling. Come afternoon, it’s the reverse. We dawdle. We poke our heads out the door, planning for a walk, only to beat a hasty retreat when we encounter a furnace-like wave of air. We can wait. Maybe later. Maybe it will cool down before circumstances force us to hit the streets.

Of course, by going out earlier and earlier, we are asking a lot of Pettigrew’s body. Trying to stretch the time between walks is a challenge.

But Pettigrew is demonstrating a new flexibility. Necessity being the mother of invention and all that.

It used to be that it took a good 20 minutes of walking to get his system rolling. But now, given the choice of an extended walk or pushing his body to perform quickly so that we can return to the air conditioned bliss, he’s digging deep and finding that 20 minutes isn’t necessary after all.

In the afternoons, after doing his business in an expeditious manner, he pointedly turns around and heads back the way we came. Just in case I wasn’t on the same page.

No argument from me. As I’ve always said, the guy is a great communicator.