Mad Dogs and Englishmen in the Dog Days of Summer

The heat has drained the air of sound today. 

The birds have lost their voices to this hell of late summer. 

Furry squirrels are hiding in the shade of the maple tree and I guess that I would too if I wore a heavy coat like they do. 

But my dog is prancing from the front door to my chair. 

He’s licked my bare legs cool with sticky saliva. 

So we brave the heat though he’s not mad,

Nor am I English, like that saying goes. 

A Labrador, I guess he could be be English. 

I’ve never heard his accent.