I had a wonderful dog, a Black Lab. She was and exuberant bundle of joy, a perpetual motion machine. Even on the hottest days of the summer, she would fetch, play, and go, and occasionally come to me for some affection. The pit stops of affection included her panting rapidly, hot steamy breath blasting in my face. Canine love.
Here in the subtropics, at end of May, the "sub" can be dropped. It is hot and humid. At night, you feel it most. It doesn't get cool, it just gets dark.
When you walk from an air conditioned place into the world, it's as though you have stepped into an atmosphere of dog's breath. Only you can't dodge it, or throw a stick to make it go away. It's there huffing on you, and it will be there until October inserts the "sub" back into sub tropical. The dog breath days of summer.
Here in the subtropics, at end of May, the "sub" can be dropped. It is hot and humid. At night, you feel it most. It doesn't get cool, it just gets dark.
When you walk from an air conditioned place into the world, it's as though you have stepped into an atmosphere of dog's breath. Only you can't dodge it, or throw a stick to make it go away. It's there huffing on you, and it will be there until October inserts the "sub" back into sub tropical. The dog breath days of summer.
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