End of Days
Fred is, for the most part, a very calm beasty. Small children hugging him and shrieking in his ear? No problem. Thunderstorms? No problem. Walk up and down a ladder for a slide? No problem.Fireworks? BIG problem. And of course it's that time of year. We've been super lucky in that there hasn't been much firework activity. Until last night when someone set a few off between 9 and 11:30. And that's when, as my husband phrases it, Fred lost his shit. I tried to take him with me on a gauze pad run to Eckerd, thinking at least it would remove him from scary fireworks. When I got back to the car, he was sitting in the front seat (something he never does), and when I opened the front door of the car, he ran into Eckerds. When we got home I tried to build him a bunker in a closet, but ultimately he ended up doing this for the next hour or two:
Which looked like some bizarre re-enactment of the Blair Witch Project.
It's going to be a long day.
posted by MyHusbandRules @ 6:25 AM
2 Comments:
Oh, that poor beastie. It's always a little more sad when a really big dog has to cower. They seem a bit embarrassed by it, don't they? At least the frenzy for fireworks only comes once a year.
He really does seemed embarrassed and baffled as to what to do, especially since he's our brave defender of the house. But now it's a good long time until we deal with this again...
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