I love sitting outside in the sun. There’s something grounding and peaceful about soaking up the warmth. But my 16-year-old dog, Jessa, doesn’t agree. After just a few minutes on the porch, she starts panting, shifting uncomfortably and giving me that unmistakable look: “I need to go inside.”

Once we’re back in the air conditioning, she sighs, stretches and relaxes. As a licensed veterinary technician, I know she’s not just being fussy—she’s protecting herself from heat that could kill her.

Dogs’ body language tells us a lot. It’s not “normal” if their tongue is hanging out—it’s a sign of distress that we must take seriously. Excessive panting, drooling, glazed eyes, staggering or vomiting can signal that a dog is dangerously overheated. And with this summer already taking a deadly toll, we need to pay attention. So far this year, 20 dogs have reportedly died from heat-related causes. That’s just a glimpse—most cases go unreported.

Jessa is a senior dog, which makes her more vulnerable. So are dogs bred to have unnaturally flattened faces, such as bulldogs, pugs, Boston terriers and boxers. They suffer from brachycephalic obstructive airway syndrome, which makes breathing difficult even in mild weather. In warm weather, their risk of overheating, collapsing or even dying increases as their shortened muzzles and distorted airways make it difficult for them to pant—dogs’ primary way of cooling down.

And it’s not just the air—it’s the ground, too. When it’s 86 degrees outside, asphalt can heat up to a paw-burning 135 degrees. That’s hot enough to toast a tortilla—or burn a dog’s foot pads—in less than a minute. And pavement doesn’t just scorch paws—it radiates heat, raising the risk of heatstroke with every step.

Before taking your dog out, press your hand to the pavement. If it’s too hot for your skin, it’s too hot for theirs. Walk early in the morning or in the evening. Stick to grass when possible. Bring water, take breaks in the shade and never make dogs wear muzzles, which restrict panting. Skip strenuous exercise—dogs can’t cool themselves like we do.

Then there are parked cars—every summer, they become death traps. On a 70-degree day, a car’s interior can reach 99 degrees in just 20 minutes. On a 90-degree day? 109 in 10. That’s hot enough to cause brain damage or death from heatstroke. Slightly open windows and shade offer no protection. Even well-meaning guardians have lost dogs who accidentally turned off the AC, locked them out or bumped the gear shift and sent the vehicle rolling. Other dogs have died when a vehicle’s AC simply failed or the engine shut off entirely. Leave dogs at home, never in a vehicle. It’s just not worth the risk.

If you see a dog alone in a hot car, act fast. Note or take a photo of the make, model, color and license plate. Have the car’s owner paged in nearby businesses. If they don’t promptly arrive and remove the dog, call 911 or animal control. If the dog appears to be in distress—panting hard, vomiting, lethargic or collapsed—find a witness, document what you see and do what’s necessary to save a life. Once the dog is safe, get them into an air-conditioned space, offer water and ensure they’re rushed to a veterinarian. Many states protect good Samaritans who rescue animals or children from hot cars.

Dogs left chained or penned outside are in constant danger. If there are any in your neighborhood, make sure they have shade, fresh water in a bucket secured to prevent tipping and food. If you see a dog struggling in the heat, encourage their owner to bring them inside. If that’s not possible—or if the dog appears to be suffering—contact local authorities.

Jessa lets me know when she’s had enough of the heat. But countless other dogs are trapped in situations they’re unable to escape. They can’t speak up—but we can, and we must.

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Melissa Rae Sanger is a licensed veterinary technician and a staff writer for the PETA Foundation, 501 Front St., Norfolk, VA 23510; www.PETA.org.

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