Goodness it's been hot lately in our building, right? The sweltering heat, the insane humidity, and the constant hum of air conditioners in everyone's windows. People are hot. Irritable. And sometimes it's tough to sleep at night in these early summer conditions.
So I'm wondering, right, why you and DogShoes are thrashing around in the apartment at two in the morning?
Aren't you hot up there? I hear DogShoes thundering back and forth, chasing whatever tennis ball or stick or Playmate cooler you are throwing down the hallway for him to retrieve. I also hear him barking at BoyfriendShoes when he comes home from work at night . DogShoes must really, really like your boyfriend because her bark just booms with deafening joy upon his arrival!
I know you are taking precautionary measures to keep DogShoes cool in this relentless heat. I mean, it's so swell of you to have him running laps in the wee hours of the morning - when the sun is down, of course - instead of during the day when the sun's rays are the hottest. You are a good owner, Shoes. Always thinkin'.
I know you and BoyfriendShoes are doing your best to control DogShoes. Between the moments of doggy feet pounding against the hardwoods, I hear you two talking animatedly about "Throw it in the tub and see if he jumps in," and "I saw you talking to her again outside of work and so help me God if you are cheating on me I will throw you out on your ass." I appreciate your dedication to DogShoes' exercise habits and to the fidelity of your relationship, I really do. I'm just an eensy bit concerned about the luggage taking residence underneath my eyes.
I'll wait it out until it dawns on you that most people are sleepy at two in the morning. Or that they don't want dog thunder rolling in our ceiling. If I was taller, I'd bang on the ceiling with a broom. But I'm not taller and I can't reach the ceiling without teetering precariously on a chair. And I'm also not 74 years old with a spindle in the back bedroom. I can handle the noise, Shoes. I just don't like it.
In the meantime, I'll stay downstairs with my husband and my melting doormat cats. And someday, when I'm taller, I'll let loose on that ceiling with a hammer.