New Heights of Laziness

Gus in a sleep coma

It's been hot around here, and today, so far, is the worst of all.  Heat indices in the 100s make for very unpleasant outdoor time.  Yet, I can't get the cats to come in.

Sam and Mr. Squiggles will come in periodically, especially around meal time.  But Gus and Q*bert spend almost every waking moment outside.  I don't get it.  We keep the house nice and cool.  Our house is a playground for cats.  What's missing?  What more do they want?  What makes the hot, sticky outdoors so much cooler than inside? 

I'm pretty sure Gus and Q find nice, cool spots under bushes, in the dirt, where they curl up and sleep in the peace and quiet.  I go outside and call to them several times a day, just to make sure they haven't baked themselves to death.  Sometimes they come, sometimes they don't.  I usually call during meal times.  Cats get hungry, right?  But it's like I have to remind them to eat.  Oh,  yeah.  I totally forgot.  I guess I baked my brain in this 105 degree weather.  Usually, if they do grace me by responding to my frantic calls, I have to walk over to them, pick them up, bring them in the house, and place them in front of their food.  At that point, they do remember how to eat and chew. 

After which, they promptly go back outside, to laze in their super-secret hiding spots.  Until the next time a meal rolls around.  Then we start all over again.  I can't wait for fall.