Monday, July 24, 2017

It's Damn Hot in Fort Worth: Toby the Dog's Story

Toby the Dog lives outside and he does fine with that even with the temperature hitting one zero five (40C+) out there in the afternoon sun lately.  There's a hedge next to the house and he's found himself a place under there somewhere which is his dog cave and it's probably the coolest place in the yard.  A man sometimes has a man cave and a dog has his dog cave; it seems only fair.

The biggest deal is his water and I don't get snarked but I do wrinkle my eyebrows a bit when Yevette asks if Toby the Dog has water.  The snarky answer is there's no chance I'll leave that crazy little dog out there with no water but, wtf, she worries about him.


I go out there to feed the critters at about 6:30 a.m. and it's usually the same time each day due to my long-term experience with systems plus that's about the earliest I can see into the garbage can keeper for the sacks of pet chow.  I bring fresh water out every day for Toby the Dog and I check his water from the day before.  If any water remains then it's a win as otherwise I'm one sorry dog keeper.

He almost always has water left over and that's been surprising me with this heat but he has a backup plan since there's a planter which has been out there for ages and there's nothing particular in it but the thing collects rain water.  It seemed it was Toby the Dog's preference to drink from the planter and I couldn't figure it out since I inspect his water bowl to ensure it's clean but there was something he didn't like about it.  After taking it inside and scrubbing it even though I didn't see anything, he decided it was ok again.

Ed:  maybe it had cooties?

That's as good an answer as any since I sure don't have one.

Note:  cooties were in vogue when we first arrived in America and I had a devil of a time figuring out wtf are cooties?  (I still don't know and it's fifty some years later.)


No-one is suspecting me of being a sorry dog keeper and I like being a good one in part because my own shit may be seriously weak but I can keep those varmints out there doing ok.  ML is doing the same thing with Joy and CM is doing it with Frosty.  Everything else may be in turmoil but, by damn, that critter is going to do alright.


There is critter news from the other side of the house since that's where the cats hang because Toby the Dog will screw with them, at least some of them, in the back.

It turns out Mississippi Orange doesn't like the Grey Interloper and that's cool since the Home Girl doesn't like her either because the Grey Interloper is the one who ran off Gabriela or at least that's what we decided in the kangaroo court.

I set out two piles of food out there because I don't want anyone screwing with the Home Girl but Mississippi Orange and the Timid Grey get that so they know to go the second pile and I won't screw with them.  Now I see Mississippi Orange chasing off the Grey Interloper and think, ah yes, justice is slow but sublime.


Maybe this will amuse you since it's like a puzzle from early school in which there's a monkey, a dog, and a tiger so how do you get them all across to the other side of the river without any of them killing the others and you can only take two at a time or some such.

There are two containers for pet chow so I fill one with water before I go out there and this is such a sacred duty since I rinse it to ensure there's no dust or particles left from chow from the previous day.  The water goes to give Toby the Dog a fresh bowl and then it's used to fill up his chow bowl.  Then I can use the smaller scoop to get the first heap of cat chow and put it into the bigger container for Toby the Dog.  Then I can fill the smaller scoop again to go to the front to feed the cats all in one trip.

Ed:  if you get any more obsessive, springs will start shooting from your ears

It's science, mate; it's science.

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