Yea, it’s almost the Fourth of July…again. Woo! Except that it’s not so WOO for my pups. For them, it’s the Apocalypse. It’s bombs dropping outside and the world coming to an end.
When the fireworks begin, my dogs start by pricking up their ears and silently praying that perhaps, that noise was just a car backfiring, a random gun shot or some really, scary thunder. But, alas, it keeps coming, all night long. No amount of Lionel Richie’s sweet, sweet voice will stop the horror that is coming for them. And for this very reason, I do not participate in any activities on the Fourth of July. My husband takes the kids to see fireworks. I comfort my pups. That’s my job.
Now, here is where I turn into an old grandpa who really wants you, yes, YOU firework loving American, to GET OFF OF MY LAWN. The Fourth of July is one day and one day only. It is not an all week celebration. Please, please limit it to the one night, or heck, just the weekend, if you absolutely must light some more stuff on fire to prove your patriotism. Because, hey, I believed you the first time. I’ll believe you tomorrow. No need to keep writing your declarations in the sky… or on your front lawn.
Here are some tips for helping your fur babies on the 4th of July:
- Leave them at home. Do not take them to the fireworks. Fireworks are loud and scary.
- Have one person stay at home with your pets, and keep them inside. Many dogs end up running away on the 4th, because they are trying to escape the danger that is happening all around them.
- Also, having your pet microchipped is a good idea, in the event, that they do escape. Your vet can help you with microchipping. Give them a call!
- Do not use fireworks around your pets. Please.
Here are some great websites with more tips:
Now, excuse me, while I come down off my soapbox. I want you to know that I wish you a magical 4th. I remember fireworks; the celebrations are beautiful!
Honestly, on the 4th, I do search the horizon for fireworks. I go from window to window in my house trying to catch glimpses of those sparkling gems in the night sky. I hate that I miss the awe on my children’s faces as they watch the grand finales. And, I realize that this is a memory that my girls will share with my husband- and not me. Still, that’s okay.