Hauntingly Hot - A Drabble

We moved the dog's crate to the second floor. It gets hot downstairs the summer. Randy was fine in the crate. He even liked to lay there and snuggle in the corner. He usually slept with me but sometimes at night he slept in his crate. It was 3:17am and I heard Randy whimper. I went downstairs to his crate. I tried to coax him out but he was frozen. "What's wrong boy?", I asked. Then a picture of my grandfather and his dog Spotty flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall. My grandfather died when I was three.