Well, the Fourth is a bit of a dud around here - they cancelled a few firework shows on the radio because it's raining of course. There are lots of firework stands around here but I don't think they're as popular as they were when I was a kid. They were illegal on Long Island but everyone always had them because A) unless you were into heavy artillery or someone complained the police ignored you and B) there was always someone doing a road trip down to the Carolinas where they were legal. Whoever went brought enough for everyone so as soon as it got dark it was all Roman Candles and Whirly birds, strings of firecrackers and sparklers that burned your hands. For some reason I think we were given a lit cigarette to use to light the fuses - but this was all before things were dangerous and there were actual enforceable rules about children. We used to go down to the beach with relatives and friends - it was so exciting running in the sand with explosions and lights. But then they started actually enforcing the rules and it became frowned upon to allow children to set things off, so the fireworks were left to actual shows.
We don't have too much in the way of fireworks being set off here - but enough to freak out Molly, she does not like it. At all. Last night we had some intermittent ones set off, Reuben went about his business which includes snuggling and trying to lick the cat - Molly was having none of it. She started pacing and panting, crying and trying to hide. When we went out for our last walk of the night she had her tail tucked the whole time - it was a short walk. We do not let the dogs sleep in the bed with us because, well quite frankly, they're annoying. They step on you, they lick your ears in an attempt to see if you'd like to get up and feed them, etc.. They sleep on a gigantic dog bed with blankets and a gate in front of our bedroom door - if they cannot see us we are presumably dead. Or eating cheese without them. Molly was inconsolable - I finally got up around 11 and schlepped down to the guest room and made the bed down there. Bob the cat joined me, Reuben came down to hop around and run off, Vincent peeked at me, decided there were no cat treats, bit me and left - not conducive to sleep.
Molly came to stand by the bed and cry. She got in. She got out. She got in the closet and tangled up with the vacuum which required me to extricate her. She got back in the bed. Out. In the closet, out of the closet. In the tub where she attempted to dig a hole down to the basement. After ten minutes of listening to dog claws on porcelain I was like ARRGGHH and she ran up and down the stairs. At some point I passed out from sheer exhaustion and woke up with her plastered to my side - but asleep. Then she left, Reuben stopped by to jump on me a few times. Vincent came in around 3? 4? Who the hell knows. He bumped with his head, bit my nose and then paraded around the living room meowing until I got up so he could snub breakfast and go out. Bob darted out too because that's what she does. If you open a door she shoots out like an escapee from Alcatraz. Cripes, I'm tired just reading about this. Hopefully it will be a quieter night tonight.