By Suzanne Sparrow Watson
Well, here we are in the dog days of summer. Ironically, my dog Dooley doesn’t appreciate this time of year. No afternoon walks, no endless sessions of fetch, and no sitting in the sun for hours on end. Although he tries – I have to pick him up off of the synthetic grass after a minute or two, lest he get overheated. His one working brain cell hasn’t figured that part out yet. Yep, it’s the time of year when the “feels like” temperature on my weather app reads like the pre-heat on my oven. In all honesty, our weather this year has generally been at or below normal, a wonderful respite from the last two record-breaking summers. Still, it’s Arizona so it’s hot. These “dog days” typically run from early July to mid-August. In other words, it’s the season when the ice in your glass is gone before you take your first sip, so it’s best to stick with wine.
The dog days of summer require some strategic thinking when it comes to clothing. Anything beyond the bare minimum is an act of heroism – or lunacy. White T-shirts become translucent, denim becomes a form of self-inflicted torture, and flip-flops are appropriate except for black tie events. You know it’s the dog days when you start to consider mesh shorts a formal upgrade. Hats? Only if you enjoy forehead sweat decorating your face. Sunglasses? Absolutely, but only if they don’t slide off your nose and into your (melted) iced coffee.
People told me that Dooley would slow down during the worst of the summer heat; that our walks would become sluggish crawls from one patch of shade to the next, interrupted only by dramatic flops onto cool tile floors. Nope. I take him out at 5:30 every morning and if I didn’t stop him, he’d chase the squirrels and bunnies for hours. Eventually I am able to entice him to join me at the ice machine at our rest stop, where he chomps on crushed ice, and then is raring to go back out. Meanwhile, my pants are stuck to my thighs, and the humidity makes my hair look like I’ve put my finger in a light socket.
I’ve learned that if you can’t beat the heat, it’s best to avoid it. Here are a few tried-and-true strategies for surviving the dog days:
- Fill your bathtub with ice and submerge yourself. Bonus points if you can stay under for more than thirty seconds without shrieking.
- Perfect your popsicle-to-mouth coordination. (Brain freeze is a rite of passage.)
- Befriend your local air-conditioned library. You don’t have to read, but you do have to linger meaningfully near the vents.
- Plan elaborate vacations in your mind. The Maldives? Sure, why not?
- Convince your friends to have a movie marathon—indoors, with blackout curtains, a mountain of snacks, and a Slurpee machine.
There’s no doubt that the dog days of summer are a test of patience, deodorant, and the limits of your air conditioning unit. But there’s a certain camaraderie in the collective struggle. We’re all in this together—sweaty, sticky, slightly delirious, and counting down the days until sweater weather returns. So next time you find yourself staring longingly at a cloud, hoping for rain, remember: these sultry days are but a fleeting moment. My guess is that Target will have their Christmas decorations up in the next month. Before we know it, we’ll be reminiscing about summer’s warmth as we put another log on the fire and watch Netflix in our down parkas. Until then, wear your sunscreen, laugh at your sweat stains, and give your dog an extra belly rub—after all, these are their days.