It's too hot and I'm too sweaty

sneak peak: a poem about very hot weather in London

It's too hot and I'm too sweaty.

~Ultra Shine~ does not feel pretty.

My duvet has been banishèd;

The cover alone adorns my bed.

Olive is shedding all her hair;

Those tiny strands go everywhere.

I brush her every chance I get.

I'm lucky if she tolerates it.

Next to me, she's panting now

But no beads of sweat upon her brow.

Dogs can only sweat through their paws,

One of their *very very few* flaws.

London is not built for this heat,

And heaven forbid you should need to meet

A friend who lives a tube-ride away...

Maybe see them another day.

Shops sell out of all their fans,

And paddling pools pre-hosepipe ban.

Pimm's finds itself in short supply,

As does the humble strawber-rye.

But let us not forget, oh no,

The havoc that is wrought by snow,

When London grinds right to a stop

Even for a single drop.

So let's not wish the sun away,

Let's soak it up and seize the day.

And when it is no longer here,

We know it will come back - even hotter and sweatier - next year.

Three dogs who have figured out the best way to deal with being too hot. Jump in the sea.