Between Zoomies and Iced Coffee

I should probably start by saying this: people love to throw around words like clingy and obsessed when they talk about me. Personally, I think those people are being incredibly unfair.
I simply take my responsibilities seriously.
You see, Mary is one of my humans, and keeping track of Mary is a full-time job.
Humans, in general, make poor choices. They wander away unexpectedly. They go into rooms and forget why they entered. They disappear into bathrooms for suspicious amounts of time. Sometimes they even leave to get snacks and return with absolutely none for the dogs.
So yes, I stay close.
Very close.
If Mary sits down, I sit beside her.
If Mary lays down, I lay beside her.
And eventually — through a very slow and calculated process — I carefully shift all 95 pounds of myself directly on top of her body.
Not aggressively.
Not suddenly.
No.
Like a gentle landslide.
Mary usually responds with things like:
“Rhody… I can’t breathe.”
Or:
“Rhody… I can’t feel my legs.”
But honestly? She says a lot of things.
Ragger understands me.
Ragger’s my brother, and he’s much quieter. He likes Mary too, but he acts like he’s too cool to admit it. He sits nearby pretending to be independent while secretly keeping an eye on everything.
He likes his personal space.
I prefer to become one with the people I love.
Different styles.
Now on the day of The Incident, it was hot.
Not regular hot.
Not “wow, sure is warm today” hot.
No.
This was “the sun is actively trying to kill us” hot.
The kind of heat where even the birds looked irritated.
The kind where stepping outside felt like opening an oven door.
Ragger and I were laying beside Mary on the big porch swing overlooking the intercoastal — the fancy swing with the giant mattress where everyone eventually melts into one big pile.
Life was perfect.
I was on Mary’s left side where I belong.
Ragger was nearby.
Everything in the world felt balanced.
Then suddenly…
Mary stood up.
Immediately my ears perked.
Ragger lifted his head.
Because experienced dogs know something important:
Humans never stand up and point unless disappointment is coming.
Mary looked directly at us.
Pointed.
Then narrowed her eyes.
“Do NOT go in the water. I’m going inside for two minutes. I’m grabbing a drink and using the bathroom.”
Silence.
Ragger looked at me.
I looked at Ragger.
The door closed.
We stared at each other for a moment.
Then Ragger finally spoke.
“…two minutes?”
I blinked.
“We know Mary.”
Because Mary never simply goes inside.
Humans say one thing and then suddenly get distracted.
Mary enters kitchens and immediately starts side quests.
She opens cabinets.
Stares into refrigerators.
Forgets why she walked in there.
Finds snacks.
Gets more snacks.
Possibly discovers entirely new snacks.
Two minutes in human time could mean anything.
So we waited.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three.
Ragger looked toward the pool.
I looked toward the pool.
The pool sparkled in the sunlight.
The water looked cold.
Beautiful.
Refreshing.
Like a giant magical dog bowl from heaven.
Ragger looked at me.
“…I’m hot.”
“I know.”
“…just one paw?”
I stared at him.
“…Ragger.”
Pause.
“…all four paws.”
He nodded.
No further discussion was needed.
We moved quickly.
Quietly.
Like highly trained professionals.
Not criminals.
Absolutely not criminals.
We trotted toward the pool with purpose.
And moments later…
Glorious victory.
The water touched my paws and I swear my soul briefly left my body.
Cold.
Perfect.
Amazing.
I suddenly understood happiness on a spiritual level.
Ragger slowly stepped in beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
We just stood there in peaceful silence.
Enjoying the greatest decision we’d ever made.
Then—
“RAGGER. RHODY.”
I froze.
Slowly I turned.
And there stood Mary.
Hands on hips.
Looking absolutely betrayed.
Like somehow we had wronged her.
Excuse me?
YOU left.
For snacks.
I looked at Ragger.
Ragger looked at me.
Then we both looked back at Mary.
“Oh good. You’re back.”
“Come on in.”
“Stop being weird.”
Mary stared at us.
We stared at Mary.
Then she turned and walked back inside.
I panicked.
“She’s calling Mom.”
Ragger sighed.
“We had a good run.”
We sat there preparing for the consequences of our actions.
But then…
A few minutes later…
The back door opened again.
I looked up.
Ragger looked up.
And there stood Mary.
In a bathing suit.
I slowly looked at Ragger.
Ragger slowly looked at me.
And I whispered:
“…Ragger.”
“…yeah?”
“I think we just trained the human.”