Thursday, July 11, 2019

Pocket and the Night of the Living Fire Works


I have never been overly bothered by fireworks.  My parents don't question why. They know I have hearing sensitivities to alarms, whistles, bells, heavy rain, thunder, kazoos, and whispers.  While they find this odd, they count their blessings and don't ask questions. 

On Thursday night, I ignored the persistent sound of fireworks popping in the distance.  I was sitting in Daddy's chair on his left side. This afforded me a view of the kitchen, and it's a western facing window. I saw something launched skyward. It reached its apex, and it exploded, shaking the house. 

I don't have an issue with fireworks, but explosions around our house make me wonder if we have relocated to Beirut.  My parents both reacted angrily. 

Before the sound had dissipated, I had a bad case of the trembles.  The shakes started at my head and soon overtook my entire body. I combated them by climbing on Daddy's arm and perching on his shoulder like a parrot with shell shock. 

It is a common misconception that dogs are afraid of fireworks. We are scared of our houses being blown up.  You can tell us that it is just some idiot shooting off fireworks, but you don't know that. What better time is there for someone to cover up blowing up a house than during fireworks? Thank God for dogs.  We never assume.

I was so scared I only ate half of my small plate second supper, which I usually gobble down.  I sat on Daddy’s chest, blocking the TV screen while my parents watched “Black Mirror.” I should be thanked for that.  I saw the whole program and didn't understand any of it.

The fireworks had stopped by the time we went to bed at 11:00.  I emitted a grateful sigh. At 1:00, I was comfortably snuggled with mommy, spooning at her waist when I heard:  “Pop, pop, pop, pop.”

I stood and experienced another full-body shudder.   I jumped on Daddy, who was pretending to sleep. I stumbled up his body to his chest and panted in his face. He rubbed me trying to calm me down, but the thought that someone was setting off fireworks at 1:00 when people had to work the next morning bothered him more than the shaking and the noise. His anxiety fed mine and vice/Versa.

Now that Daddy and I were wide awake he went on the local Facebook page and read people’s complaints about the fireworks, and people’s justification for setting them off: That it was harmless fun done by people celebrating the holiday.    Daddy toggled between two choices: The first was to find the people setting off the fireworks and beat them to death with a baseball bat; the second was to post a comment on the thread where people said that no one should complain about fireworks, that said “I feel the same way.  When I want to have harmless fun that doesn’t hurt anyone, I am going to break into your house and steal your stuff.” Discretion won out, and we both went back to bed.

The fireworks would sporadically continue to 3:00 AM.  At that time, Daddy and I both fell into a restless sleep.

If these fireworks continue for more than a day Daddy may leave a nasty comment on the firework’s lover’s Facebook page.




Or he may find the baseball bat and get some justice for me.

10 comments:

  1. We vote for the baseball bat.

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  2. We were all so very grateful when the noise finally stopped Sunday night. Mom was really worried about Misty, but she seems just fine now. It seems like there ought to be a lot of better ways to celebrate.

    Woos - Lightning, Misty, and Timber

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  3. We agree with the baseball bat idea.

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  4. we love the idea to leave nasty comments... you can call our mama if you run out of swear words...but our dad is more for the baseball bat therapy... just say a time and he is ready to celebrate a different firework...

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  5. I think the should be an expensive license or permit required to set off any fireworks and a heavy fine imposed. And that person and their entire family made to work at the local dog shelter that night.

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  6. We don't mind fireworks. But no one needs to keep blasting them off after midnight!

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  7. Oh, the baseball bat therapy sounds like funs! BOL!
    lets me knows if he needs bail...
    Kisses,
    Ruby ♥

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  8. We think your dad should go over there and punch their lights out for making you suffer! I'm not scared of fireworks but Stanley prefers to stay indoors where he knows it's safe.

    Your Pals,

    Murphy & Stanley

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  9. We're lucky that we don't have many fireworks around. We're more frightened of vacuums and mowers and blowers and things you hear all the time. Our fireworks are usually limited to huge displays in town that are far enough away to just make popping sounds.

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  10. For the first time ever I got the police to call me back when I complained about a neighbor firing off commercial grade fireworks in a neighborhood where 100 year old houses are 5 feet apart. He'd quit by the time the cops came, but the officer gave me his name and told to give him a heads up for next year and if the same yahoo does it again he will cite them (all fireworks are illegal in Chicago - something about a fire a long time ago).

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