My dog, Oli, is part husky and isn't fond of hot weather. He'd rather it be 20 degrees with fresh snow on the ground.
Most of the year, we take a walk and play frisbee in the early afternoon before I go to work. On hot summer days, he prefers to chase the ball in the backyard and splash in his pool every few minutes.
On my days off, we go walking after dark. This is when my cat decides it's unfair that only dogs get to go for walks. She'll follow us. The first time she did she scared the hell out of my by stalking us for ten minutes before sprinting past me in the dark.
Her name is Zloby, which means "she is naughty" in Czech. Somehow I knew.
And for no reason other than I'm proud of it, another chunk of Cathartes:
Joe drains his cup, rises, shakes off his dream.
He sets in front of Bodhi a cracker
With salmon and cheese. He looks up, wags once
But stays at his post like a stone lion.
Gripping the shotgun, Joe takes one more lap
On soft feet through the brightness and shadows.
I am no owl and certainly no bat.
I nestle low in the top of a fir
As the frogs court each other, the crickets
Rub wings and the owls creep on sleepless mice.
From Cathartes Aura on the Road from Nowhere, Chapter Four, Verse Six.