Okay, we’ve had a few hot and sticky days…well, actually a string of those days until last Thursday when it felt like we’d been released from a pressure cooker.  People were driving with their windows open, freed from their air conditioners if in fact they worked.

For a change, the office air conditioner was silent. The mood was upbeat, the heavy blanket of humidity had been lifted.  At home Carol had the windows open with fans pulling in the fresh air. Our puppy, Ferrah, lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, blissfully asleep until she heard me. She sprung up. There’s no moderate mode for her. It’s either sleep or engagement.

This time it was the full greeting that includes wiggling her bottom since she doesn’t have much of a tail, nipping my hand, which we haven’t been able to cure her of, and climbing into my lap to lick my ear. Even at 25 pounds, she’s a handful.  She was ready to get out and not surprisingly switched into her zoom routine of running circles in the yard.

Even in the thick of the string of 90 degree days she would do her zoomies, although they would last for a couple of circles. By then she would flop down, tongue lulling with an expression that clearly read “can’t you do something?”

Our canine companions over the years found ways to beat the heat. Ollie headed for the pool and descended a couple of steps until his belly was wet all the time lapping up the water. And on occasion he would step off and go for a swim. He also had shaded spots in the yard or his pen where he dug holes to cool off.

The pool seemed like the logical place for Ferrah to find relief short of spraying her with the hose. We nixed the hose fearing that’d turn her off to water completely.  She showed an interest in the pool as long as we were in it. She’d circle it curiously as we swam. Carol sat on the step coaxing her to step in and then tossing a stick just beyond her reach, hopeful she’s venture in. I’d cupped my hands and she’s lap up the water, but make a splash and she’d bolt.

My sister, Claire, also has a puppy albeit several months older than Ferrah and a good deal larger. Percy is a Portuguese water dog and built for swimming.  My niece introduced Claire to the breed that won her heart after boarding the dog for a couple of weeks. The crowning touch was when the dog joined her for swims in the Deerfield River.

Now Claire is hopeful Percy will do the same.  So far he hasn’t caught on although he’ll wade in the water and take short swims. Claire has tried calling him from the water, but he’s not prepared to swim with her. On our last email exchange, Claire said a friend suggested a floating leash. That seemed to make good sense. After all Percy is leash trained and leash swimming would just be an extension of leash walking.  I’m waiting for the report.

As for Ferrah, she’s not really leash trained…yet. And even if she was, I doubt she would follow either of us into the pool.

Nonetheless, we will keep trying. As has been the case with all our dogs, we know what’s best for them even though they seem to know an awful lot more than us when comes to certain things. No question one thing we both suffer from is heat. Perhaps I should dig a hole in the back yard before the next heat wave. At least Ferrah would help.

A clarification to last week’s column on the Pilgrim 60th class reunion:  While the Pilgrim Class of 1964 was the school’s first senior class to have a full academic year in the school, it was not the first to graduate from the school. Bob Hocking, a member of the class of 1963, filled us in. As it turned out, the high school opened in February of 1963 bringing to an end double sessions at Veterans Memorial High School.  Hocking, who went on to have a career as a news photographer for WJAR, remembers the buckets lining the corridors from leaky roofs and that first graduation was held in the school parking lot.  He also recalls the first Pilgrim graduate: Mike Agresti. To this day, Hocking says, Agresti touts that distinction that obviously was based simply on the alphabetical listing of graduates…but he was first.