I always wondered why they call them the “dog days” of summer, particularly back when I didn’t have a dog. If it has something to do with lying around being lazy and hot, I defy you to find a dog who’s been doing more lying around panting and sweating in the heat than me. You couldn’t do it, because dogs can’t even sweat. Now I’m supposed to feel sorry for them because they breathe harder in July?
I do, though, finally have my own definition of the dog days of summer, based on two events in the last week that reminded me of why I’ve always considered dogs the one true sign that God might actually love us. Read the rest of this entry →