Even animals are not immune to this. I used to feel sorry for the lions at the zoo who were left panting on the rocks on hot summer days, until I saw my two cats doing the same thing. They were both lying on our concrete back porch in their fur coats boiling in the sun.

“Save us! We are about to die!” Oreo gasped.

“The door has been open for you all day! Come in,” I said.

“Water, just a drop of water,” Tigger begged.

“Your water dishes are just inside! You have air-conditioning, carpet, sofas, beds and food!”

Both cats stared up at me panting and looking miserable.

“There is nothing to be done,” Oreo croaked. 

“Our cruel mistress leaves us here to perish,” Tigger agreed.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” I said. “I’m going in.” And I abandoned them to their suffering, leaving the door cracked open for them so our energy bill could continue soaring to new heights.

Not that I’m any smarter. Several years ago I discovered the North Ogden chalk art festival. They were looking for artists. I’m not an artist, but I like to meddle with anything that makes a mess, so I thought I’d give it a try even though I’d never drawn anything with chalk before.

This event is always held in August. The organizers, who were sitting in the shade with fans, pointed to a taped square on the black asphalt and told me that I had until three o’clock the next day to create a masterpiece.

I went to work and quickly discovered why people typically don’t lie face down on black surfaces in the summer. Not that this stopped me. Artists are often credited with madness, and apparently, even amateurs are not spared. 

A few hours later, my husband Dave came to check on me. 

“Hi! How’s it … You look terrible!” he said.

“Save me! I am about to die!” I gasped.

“Get into that store! It’s air-conditioned.”

“No. it’s too late for me. Save yourself.”

“How much are they paying you again?”

“Actually, I paid them.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he pointed out. 

I stared at him uncomprehendingly and kept working. 

Strangely, I did not die of heat stroke, and every year I forget how awful it is, and sign up again. 

This year, I was accepted to the Hogle Zoo “Chalk the Zoo” event. I knew that most of the artists were out of my league, but I was being paid in free admission and food vouchers, so how could I say no? 

Visitors to the zoo fell into two categories, either very sweet or completely oblivious. I began by putting in a background of blue sky.

“Wow! That looks great!” more than one person said of my splotch of plain blue.

One little girl said, “I want to be an artist just like you when I grow up.”

I responded with something lame like, “I’m sure you will.” But what I was really thinking was, “This is a solid blue rectangle. I bet you’re up to this.”

Then I took a break and watched as people walked over my work. Well, it was just solid blue, so I wasn’t too worried. Once I got a canopy up, that was a deterrent although you’d be surprised how many still managed to step on my picture.

After a day and a half of crawling on the sidewalk in the heat, we all finished, and the zoo was scattered with truly stunning artwork of many of its animals. Since all of the pictures were at least 8 x 8 feet and bright, most people managed to see them and were respectful.

But not everyone.

I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at anyone in public before, but when I saw a family standing on top of a picture of a fabulous Mongolian horse that took a good 15 hours of hot, hard work to create, I did loudly insist that they get off. 

So please, whether it’s a kid’s drawing on the sidewalk, or a breathtaking work of art, don’t step on it or park your car on top of it. Enjoy it. Someone worked hard to make it for you.

Anneli Byrd is an academic adviser in Weber State University’s Student Success Center.