365 Days (Part 1) | ✓

105. Heat

105. Heat: Write about being overheated and sweltering.

A/N: Bahahaha, this prompt. I live in Texas. I know what it is to be hot.

Heat

Sweltering is a good word to use when describing Texas summers. It is an unfortunate fact that Texans are perpetually melting and there is nothing we can do about it except move.

Don't get me wrong: I love Texas. But sometimes Alaska looks pretty attractive too.

I most felt the full measure of this heat one day several years ago -- I could probably ask someone for the exact date, because it was quite a momentous occasion. On that day, we were asked by my second oldest brother, Chris, to babysit his dog, Presley. Presley is a boston terrier, and a total freak. I am not sure why we needed to look after her, as Chris was only leaving the dang dog for the afternoon, but whatever. I think my parents agreed because it sort of included us in Chris' plans -- for, on that day, Chris planned to propose to his girlfriend.

Chris and Courtney, his girlfriend, were just going to have a photoshoot (something that at the time we found odd and have persisted to find odd since then). Chris planned to propose while they were all dressed up fancy schmancy. Probably get a few pics of it. It was going to be romantic and probably would have gone without a hitch, if not for us. We were the hitch.

Presley did not like it. I spent maybe an hour trying to be friends with her, but to no avail. She just stayed by the door and did her utmost best to escape to freedom. She was a bug-eyed, yippy, jumpy dog. The first opportunity she had to get away from us, she did. The door opened, someone came in, Presley shot out.

Cue the panic. I mean, my brother and his girlfriend adored this dog. If we let her get away, they might pull out the weapons: geckos, mustard guns, rubber band shooters -- the extremely dangerous stuff.

So all we went, chasing that idiotic canine. I was in such a hurry, I didn't have time to pick up shoes. I think my brother forgot his belt and was going along hitching up his pants every few feet. Keep in mind: hot Texas summer. Heat-absorbing concrete. Bare feet. (Man, I hate that dog.)

But I ran and chased her. Boston terriers have sort of spindly legs, but they sure can be speedy when trying to ruin their owners' epic, romantic proposal. My mom, brother, and dad turned back for the car, since Presley was outstripping us. I continued on, to keep her in sight. I was not exactly the most athletic or in shape person in those days, so I was winded within the first block.

The heat! Will I ever be able to forget how it beat down on me? Like a very unkind punch to my boiling skin. When I was a small child, I made up that the reason the sun was always shining on me was because it was chasing me -- because it liked to see my face. Well, it sure did love me that day. A little too much love.

I was slowing down, gasping and sweating (and insanely attractive, I'm sure). The stitch in my side was getting worse. To top off my hideous and very bad image, I turned the corner and what do I see?!

Houses. Houses lining the street, and no Presley.

She could have gone down three different streets and I didn't kmow which one was the most appealing to her miniscule dog brain. I stood there cursing the dumb animal and my lack of shoes, when my parents drove up. I hopped in the car and related my failure.

Thankfully, the first street we went down was the right one. We saw Presley sniffing at a bush near someone's house, totally disregarding how disrespectful it was to step on someone's yard. The four of us tried to corner her against the door, but I will say one thing for Presley: try to trap her and she will thwart you every time. If she taught a class on how to escape from prison, we would have some serious problems.

There were quite a lot of people on the street. We asked them to help us catch this dog, and so we had about ten/fifteen people all trying to capture this one boston terrier, and failing completely. We didn't want to call Chris and ruin his proposal, but we couldn't chase Presley for however long it took him to pop the question. So the call was made, and Chris and Courtney drove straight over. Thank goodness they weren't far.

By the time they showed up, we had abandoned the running. We just trailed along behind Presley in our car.

Chris drove up to Presley, sniffing at some other dog's droppings in the grass, in his car with Courtney. They opened the door, and Chris asked his dog, "Presley, what are you doing?"

And I KIDD YOU NOT. That dog, who we had been after for at least an hour, jumped right into Chris' car. No running. Not bug-eyed stares. It was cruel to see.

We all went to our home, where Courtney fussed over Presley, saying stuff like, "Her color looks a bit off."

To which my mother replied teasingly and incredulously, "Her color? What about my color?!"

Later, on the car ride to their own home, Courtney joked, "Man, it's a good thing you weren't going to propose today."

Chris hesitated. "Um..."

"Wait, you weren't, were you?"

"Actually, I was," Chris admitted.

"You're kidding!" Courtney said.

"I have the ring in my pocket," Chris said.

And he pulled it out and asked her to marry him. She said yes, and today they have two beautiful children: my bestest buddy Binklesworth, Charlotte, and my homeslice, CJ. They are also one of the happiest married couples I have ever seen, despite the fact that we ruined their proposal.