Sedona has become a Florida sun worshiper. She loves going out back of my parents house when the sun is at its zenith to stretch out on scorching hot pavers. I can call and cajole her to come in, but no deal. She just lays there, sometimes for as long as 10 minutes. Then, panting like she's just crossed the Mohave Desert, she trots her heat-baked body into the house, loudly laps up a long cold drink of water and flops down on the floor vent -- where it is blasting cold air. Makes no sense to me. I guess she is a dog of extremes.
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