We were all hot, even the dog. He literally panted all day and all night. He couldn't drink enough water, or put enough belly on the cold tile. He spent Tuesday night sleeping in front of his own fan. I felt so terrible for him that I got him up out of bed in the early morning and gave him the hair cut of his life.He looks miserable already, but that could just be his "I'm putting up with Brighton trying to brush me" face. He's had his traditional Westie cut for his entire life- three years.