I know Mom blogged about fireworks the other day, I was there, sitting right behind her while she
wrote and posted the thing, but I really didn’t understand what the big deal
was. I was more interested in snoozing.
Friday night came and
went, no big deal. I played with Toby and Cougar. Showed my stuff blue dog who was boss. Got bored. Just a typical night in this chiweenie's life.
Saturday night was a
little different. I got my heartworm medicine. Mom thinks it’s ridiculous I
have to spit it out each time my teeth crack the pill, stare at it for a few
seconds, pick it up, break it in half and repeat the process four or five times
before swallowing the pill. I think the fact she uses silverware is stupid so I
guess we’re even.
Anyway, getting back
to Saturday night. I went through my monthly ritual with my heartworm medicine,
ate the hot dog Mom got me as a reward, and settled in for some cuddle time.
Things were going great until there was some strange pop-pop-pop noises to the
north of us.
I listened.
I looked at Mom. She said the noise was fireworks.
Happy to have an
explanation, I relaxed.
I even opted to go with Mom into the barn so I could
play with Toby while she checked on the horses. It wasn’t a big deal.
Okay, maybe I got a
little bit nervous towards the end and sought refuge between Mom's feet, but I thought I handled it like a trooper.
I was a fireworks master!
Than Sunday night
happened. That’s the night everyone in the entire town decided to set off their
own fireworks. It was really loud. I didn’t think it was ever going to stop. It was !#$!@#$!@%@#$^@# (See Mom, I followed the stupid Articles Under Which we Sail do-hickey you made me agree to!)
I considered my
options and decided the best place to hide was under mom’s desk chair. It’s a
pretty good setup for a little dog. It’s covered, it’s familiar, and mom is
really close by. Since mom always uses a lap blanket while she writes, the spot
feels a little cave like.
Just as I was getting
secure, the unthinkable happened.
My mom got up and left
me.
What the …!
She said she had to
check on the horses and make sure they hadn’t run through the fence, but I’m
not sure I believe her. I mean she didn’t smell like horse sweat or hay. She
smelled a little smoky. I’m seriously wondering what she was really up to. When
the next set of boomers went off a few minutes after 11, she also said a few
bad words, the ones she won't let ME use, before running out of the apartment a second time.
When she came back to
the apartment, she gave me a couple of Beggin’ Strips for being such a good,
brave girl, so I decided to forgive her. After that, all was well with the
world.
Ta for now,
Anya, the Farm Chiweenie