Friday, July 15, 2005, 21:03
How Hot Is It? (Just Ask Charlie)
"Okay, Charlie, hold still," Randy said, as he took a firmer grip on our Springer Spaniel's collar and reached for the clippers.
Charlie looked up at him in mute appeal, ears drooping.
Last night, for the second time this year, Charlie got a haircut. Usually he only gets one haircut in the spring. When I think of Springers, I do not think of them as long-haired dogs. But they are -- *if* they are not clipped regularly. And since the temperature has been in the 90s for more than a week and was in the upper 80s the week before that, Randy decided Charlie needed another haircut.
For the past week, every morning I have been riding my bicycle over to my brother's farm to pick up the mail and to take care of their kitty cats and to water my sister-in-law's flowers. They are gone on vacation, and if figured since I have to go over there every day, I might as well take the bike and then Charlie can come with me for some exercise before it gets too hot. But even first thing in the morning, it's been almost unbearably hot this week, and by the time we arrive back home, Charlie is one miserable puppy dog. Randy was thinking that if he clipped Charlie again, the dog might be more comfortable in the extreme heat. In the afternoon, I have been putting Charlie into his kennel in our walk-out basement, and he has been quite willing to come inside where it is cooler.
Since it's such a beastly job, this year when Randy clipped Charlie in the spring, he made it into a four-day affair. The first night he clipped Charlie's head and ears. The second night he clipped his neck and shoulders and front legs. The third night he clipped his back and his belly. He finished up on the fourth night by clipping Charlie's rear end and his back legs. For a few days, the dog walked around looking mighty funny, but in the end, it was easier on everyone concerned.
The clip job last night was a piece of cake compared to the clip job in the spring. Of course, it's easy for me to say it was a "piece of cake" seeing as I wasn't doing the clipping. In fact, I stayed in the house most of the time because if I go outside, Charlie immediately starts to think, "Hey! It's Mom. Help has arrived. Save me, Mom!" and then he struggles to get away and tries to come over to me.
When Randy was nearly finished clipping Charlie, I couldn't help myself, though, and went outside to see how things were going.
A pile of white and brown hair littered the lawn by the porch. Charlie was looking considerably more sleek. And Randy was looking hot and sweaty and was covered with little white pieces of hair.
"I'm almost done, Charlie, hold still," Randy said.
I knelt down and held Charlie's collar and petted him and talked to him while Randy finished up the last little bit. At the end, the dog broke free of my hold and away he went.
Charlie cavorted around on the driveway and the flopped down in a heap, panting happily.
"Come back here, Charlie," Randy said.
"Why do want him to come back again?" I said.
"Because I don't want him to think that when it's his idea to get away, he can get away."
Charlie, looking dejected, and with his head down and ears drooping, slowly came back to Randy and stood beside him.
My husband turned on the clippers and clipped a little off Charlie's hind leg.
"Okay," he said, "now you're done."
Charlie cavorted away again, panting happily and looking mighty pleased that the job was over.
"I have *got* to take a shower," Randy said. "I can't stand all those little pieces of hair sticking to me."
So, Randy went into the house and took a quick shower. When he came back outside again a little while later, he looked at Charlie, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"I bet Charlie is covered with pieces of hair, too, and would like to get rid of those little clippings," he said. "Come on, Charlie."
Randy took the dog over to the hose and sprayed him down. Charlie does not especially enjoy getting a bath. He loves water and will swim or wade in any little pond or puddle or stream that he comes across. But he does not like to get a bath.
When Randy was finished, once again, Charlie cavorted away, ears bouncing, mouth wide open in a happy grin.
Today when we went over to my brother's place, Charlie did not seem nearly so affected by the heat, and in fact, was only panting about half as much as he did on the previous days.
Charlie stills knows a good thing when he sees it, though, because he was perfectly willing to go into his kennel this afternoon. The only other times that Charlie is perfectly willing to go into his kennel is at night or when it is below zero outside. For the most part, Charlie would rather not be in his kennel because he is afraid that either Randy or I (or both of us) will do "something fun" -- like go for a walk or a bike ride or even just working around the yard -- and if he is inside, he will miss out on it.
Early last spring we had a week of 80-degree weather, so that's when Randy decided to clip Charlie. After that, the weather turned very cold and stayed cold for about two months. Now that Randy has clipped Charlie again, I'm hoping the weather will cool down.
It's worth a shot, anyway.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Wednesday, July 13, 2005, 18:15
Hot, Dry and Burning Up
Since when did Wisconsin become a desert environment? That's what it looks like around my yard -- a desert.
The grass on the hillsides on both sides of the house, as well as the grass in the backyard, is dry and brown and actually crunchy. Burned right to a crisp. The temperature has been in the 90s for the better part of a week, and the forecast says the temperature will be in the 90s for another week. We haven't had any significant rainfall in about three weeks, and the forecast says no rain for at least another week.
My morning glories, daylilies, irises, tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelon, muskmelon, pumpkins, egg plant, sweet corn and various young trees (maples and cedar trees) are all feeling the pinch of hot, dry weather.
So, I have been using water wherever I can find it to give my plants some moisture to help keep them alive until it rains. When I scrub out the horse's tub in the morning, I use the old water in the tub to water part of the garden. Before I fill the horse tub, I drain all the warm water out of the hose and use that to water trees (the water in the hose gets quite warm from laying in the sunshine, and I am pleasantly surprised to discover the hose holds about five gallons).
When I give our Springer Spaniel fresh water every morning, I use the five gallons in his bucket for my morning glories or other flowers. When the five-gallon buckets placed underneath the air conditioners to catch the drops of condensation are full (every other day or so), I use the buckets to water my tomatoes and cucumbers, or the morning glories, if they need it.
When the dehumidifier in the basement is full, I use that to water my watermelon and muskmelon. (I thought my watermelon was dead yesterday; it's so hot in the little garden by the basement in the afternoon that my watermelon was all curled up and shriveled; after sunset, when the air was cooler, I checked my watermelon plants and they had perked up again. Thank goodness.)
And, when I am finished washing a load of clothes, I bail out the washing machine and use the wash water -- and also the rinse water-- for sweetcorn and other various flowers and trees that need it.
I am amazed at how much water is available that I can use "a second time around" to water plants.
As for the lawn, it can stay dry and brown. When it finally rains, the lawn will come back. Many years ago when I worked for a daily newspaper, one of my assignments was to interview lawn care experts and to write a story about watering lawns. We were in the middle of a drought, and people were watering their lawns like crazy. All of the experts agreed that if you don't water your lawn during a drought, the grass will go dormant, and then, once it starts raining again, the grass will come back as good as new. I have observed this myself many times over the years, so I don't worry about the lawn.
In fact, that's one of the good things that happens when it doesn't rain. The lawn stops growing. Which means I don't have to mow it! Who wants to get out with a push mower to cut the grass when it's 95 degrees with a dewpoint in the 70s? Not me, that's for sure.
LeAnn R. Ralph