It’s cold here. I mean, really cold. For me, anyways. I’m a baby and I do not like temperatures below 75 degrees. Actually, that’s pushing it. Let’s make it 80 degrees.
How did I live in Ohio for 29 years?!
So, it’s cold here. Last night it was 33 degrees! That’s winter coat weather, people! What is the world coming to when Texas gets into the 30s in November?!
And, I’m stubborn. I do not like utility bills and wasting money on heating and cooling the house. So, I refuse to turn the heat on. Even though, it’s a brisk 62 degrees in the house now. So, the pups and I have locked ourselves in the office with a few hundred blankets, sweats and slippers (for me – although, Oskar would look mighty cute in slippers), and a small space heater.
The pups are cuddled up right in front of the heater and are currently not sharing with me. Rude.
Oskar is the heater hog. He loves this thing. Sometimes I have to turn if off because it feels like his fur is on fire. But he doesn’t care. He would lay in front of that thing all day, if I let him. Maybe that’s why we are best friends.
Oskar was laying directly in front of the heater, with about a foot between them. Well, Elvis did not think that was fair so he sat in between Oskar and the heater. Well, heater hog got upset and went to sit in between Elvis and the heater. Well, at this point, the heater was touching Oskar’s fur and it started to smell like burnt pug. Ew. But that didn’t stop Oskar. Heater hog.
So, I had to pull both dogs back to their little makeshift blanket bed/forts and angle the heater just right so that they could both feel the warmth and so that I could feel nothing.
The things we do for our dogs.
Meanwhile, Uma is on the other side of the room, hanging off her dog bed, tongue out, probably sweating to death. She is a heater of her own. She’s always hot. She is like k.
K went to bed last night wearing shorts. That’s it. Shorts.
I went to bed wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt (hooded, for extra warmth), and socks and I still woke up a few times to adjust the covers and even to add another blanket. I glanced over at k at one point and he had the covers completely off, tongue out, sweating to death. I pulled the covered up over him and he immediately started flailing until all the covers were off again.
K and Uma. Oskar and me. We are weirdos.
Wish us luck today that 1, Uma doesn’t sweat to death, 2, Oskar and Elvis find a happy medium of sharing the heater and there is no more burning pug flesh/fur, and 3, that I get a little bit of heat from the heater, or Uma, or k before I freeze up and die. Happy thoughts, people. Happy thoughts.
Enjoy your day,