Thanks, climate-change, for the triple digit heat wave we’ve been experiencing this week. You know, the one that didn’t want to go away?  Yeah. That one.  The one that hits you like a dry, hot, suffocating wind the moment you poke your head out that door.

And yet, the dogs must be walked.  So come along on one of our typical promenades. We’ve got a little video, as well as some stills for your entertainment today. (If you are receiving this by subscription, you won’t be able to view the embedded videos without going to the blog itself.)

“Yes, I know what they say curiosity did to the cat. I’m not a cat.”

Sometimes walking the dogs is like handling a team of horses. Riley is very purposeful and his big brother, now age 15, tries to go along. Little He enjoys living dangerously on the sidewalk edge. If a gardener has left a really deep channel, Little He will try to fall into it.

Some walks are more like “smell walks.” And sometimes,they just can’t get out of each other’s way.

I’ve spared you the barking frenzies that can occur when Riley sees another dog, a bird, a bicyclist–pretty much anything that wants to share his world. Although he’s getting better. He knows he’s not supposed to react, and tries to stifle it, sometimes letting out a pathetic little strangled cry.  He tries, that’s all I can say. He tries.

When a walk is over, Riley is ready for his servants to unharness him:

He even knows which side to roll over on to get unbuckled.

Then, it’s time for a long, cool drink of water. And a double-check of his breakfast plate just in case there are leftovers. (Fat chance.)

“I’m too tired to sit and drink.”

“Even though it’s more comfortable, it makes me look almost flat to the ground.”

“Done for the moment, but don’t want to get too far from the water bowl.”

“So, maybe I should just rest up until my strength returns.”