Planting, mulching or rescuing plants in need of salvation from weeds – none of it should be done in the heat. What makes me an authority? I have been planting, mulching and weeding in the heat.

Need a lesson in how to handle the heat? Look no further than one of my parents’ cats, Spoolie. Nothing flat to lounge on? Become a multi-level lounger. Notice his head is lower than his body, and maybe cooler? Heat does rise. The high midday sun has lowered his eyes to slits, a quarter of their full size – a glaze over his gaze. Did he just burn through one of his nine lives?

Last summer, our cat, Van Gogh, was so languid in the heat that a chipmunk ran by and he only opened one eye. This predator had taken the afternoon off.

I could learn how to handle the heat by watching my cat.

You never see a cat hunting in the midday sun. Van Gogh disappears under the large, leathery hosta leaves. My miniature goat weed plant becomes a pillow. He’s flattened a fair number of plants this past summer with his 17 pounds. The garden is pocked with the imprint of his body. He naps anywhere and everywhere there’s shade. It’s as if he is narcoleptic; he just drops to the ground and naps.

If only I could relax and nap like that.

I did pass out in the heat several times. But that’s not narcolepsy, that’s stupidity. When you find yourself disoriented with your nose in the dirt, that’s not relaxing. I managed to crawl into the air-conditioned house and lay motionless while the room spun. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what happens to those who have no place to cool off. Where do people in India go? Despite its icy, pristine start in the Himalayas, the River Ganges is no place to cool off anymore.

I too burned through one of my lives during the hottest summer on record. No more working in the heat. Next summer I’ll follow my cat deep into a shady hollow. Stretch out. And forget everything.

Humans would be better off if we stopped trying to train cats; they could train us.