I used to have a dog who liked to lay in the sunshine. It didn't matter what the temperature was, she wanted to lay in the sun. When it got down to 13 degrees, she still wanted to lay in the sun, despite the grass beneath her being frozen. She would lay out there, shivering and looking miserable, but she wouldn't move until the other dog went out, grabbed her by the ear, and tried to drag her into the house. Even then, she broke away and went to lie in the freezing sunshine again. This dog would also lie in the sun when it was 112 in the shade (and thus warmer in the sun). She'd lay there, panting and miserable, and wouldn't move until her buddy grabbed her by the ear and tried to drag her into the shade. Soon, she'd break away and go lie in the sun again. (Amazingly enough, this dog still made it to the ripe old age of 15.)

"Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: "we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."
"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn’t have come here.”

- Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland