It was 100 degrees today in northern Kentucky. 100 degrees. 100 degree is supposed to be a hyperbolic temperature, as in “I’d rather not sit on the patio, it’s 100 degrees out there!” but by 100 degrees you mean 84 with a nice breeze, but you still prefer air conditioning. It’s not actually supposed to reach 100 degrees in places that are not the desert. Yet somehow it did today in NKy and will again tomorrow. And Saturday. And maybe even Sunday but I don’t care as much because I’m finally heading back to London where the high is 64. Then 66 on Monday and 68 on Tuesday. I should probably get back to learning those temperatures in Celsius and look up how hot 100 F is so I can make small talk with the porter. (“How was your time in the states?” “It was 37.7 degrees.” “Blimey!”)
When we were at PetFest the other day we picked up a flyer advertising a Bruster’s Ice Cream fundraiser for a local dog rescue. If there’s anything I love more than dogs, it’s Bruster’s birthday cake ice cream. It’s heaven in a waffle cone, which is exactly what you need when it feels like the gates of hell have opened. So we took Squirt to the local Bruster’s to get him a free doggie sundae.
(Anyone who thinks Graeter’s has the best ice cream ever has not tried Bruster’s birthday cake ice cream. It will blow your mind, and the top button of your pants, probably.)
Squirt was panting from heat exhaustion and excitement when he saw his doggie sundae.
NOM NOM! He always looks a little deranged eating ice cream.
It was chop-licking good!
After we finished our ice cream and fed Squirt his (he is afraid to eat out of a bowl), we checked out the puppies up for adoption. One of them tossed his toy in the water bowl so my dad helped him fish it out.
A portion of our ice cream sale went towards Pawzitive Petz Rescue. Awezomeeeee!