Week 403 // The Misery of Neighborhood Pets

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Don’t leave the window open
It’s hotter than hell out there
It wouldn’t make a dent

All day long I’ve wondered ’bout the fate
Of the kids down the block
And the misery of neighborhood pets
What chance do they get?

Down somewhere by the ocean
I heard there was a breeze blowing by

Down at the bottom of the sea
Where you can’t even breathe
They got a nice cool spot
The sun can’t even touch you when you’re there

So many people
Hanging ’round town
Could it be they got no better place to be?

Notes
It’s hot out there gang. I think there has come a day in each of my New York summers when the heat has reached such a pitch that I could write of nothing else. That day arrived today.

I’m an outspoken detractor of summer. In the deepest, darkest days of winter, there is no room in my apartment that is rendered uninhabitable for mammals. Not so in summer. I worry for the safety of my pets. Sure, this season has plenty of charms, but when the score is tallied it comes in dead last by miles. Summer is very bad.

This song is playful, hoping to make light of the objectively terrible conditions outside and in apartments citywide. But there is also a serious sentiment in the end. I wish New Yorkers and summer sufferers everywhere a safe cool place to pass the remainder of the season. If you’ve got an elderly neighbor, maybe check in every once in a while.

Stay cool.

~M.E.

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