The Fourth of July can be a tough time to be a puppy.

I’m not speaking from my own experience, mind you – I’ve never eaten my dinner out of a bowl on the floor and I almost always go to the bathroom where I’m supposed to these days, but I do live with one of these four-legged folks and simply based on what I’ve been seeing with my own eyes over the last couple of days, I think it’s pretty safe to say that she hasn’t exactly been enjoying her best of days lately…

Maybe it’s because she’s spent approximately 45 seconds a day total not hiding in the back of our closet for the last week, or maybe it’s because whenever she does venture forth from her fortress of solitude in search of sympathy and sunlight, she takes on a shake to her walk that makes it look like she’s been licking the electrical outlets to bide her time in the closet!  And before you go thinking that this makes me sound barbaric and insensitive, let me tell you that I’ve never felt worse for my little puppy – even when she gets the hiccups – than when I watch her dive for cover like a war victim every time a random burst of color goes “Boom!” just outside of these four walls that up until now she’s been able to safely call home!

But what am I supposed to do – just walk around the streets at night and ask our neighbors nicely to refrain from the drunken pyrotechnics that they’ve been looking forward to ever since they spent their paycheck on $90 worth of questionable fireworks from a totally-not-shady-looking-at-all vendor on the side of the road last weekend?!

I wish that there was something that I could do because I can only imagine what fireworks might seem like to a dog … here she sees it as her #1 job to protect the inhabitants of our house from all outside threats, be they mailmen or delivery drivers or even merely those who dare to come within a few feet too many of our house as they walk their own furry, little monsters throughout the neighborhood … and yet the thundering booms as sparks fall from the clouds imply that she’s clearly out of her league to defend against the all out war that’s being waged just outside the front door!

Hell, when she’s locked inside that little crate of hers while we’re away, with barely enough room to curl up into a ball and cower until the bad noises go away, from her level it must sound like the entire house is under attack, and though she may be a tough little puppy versus the stray frogs and lizards that she encounters in the backyard, attempting to face down the fireworks herself would be akin to yours truly standing off against a Sherman tank in his bathrobe…

Like a shut-in waiting for the end of the world, all I can do is stand here on the sidelines and watch as my adorable, little puppy fears the nighttime walks which she once loved, refuses to lift her head for even the most decadent of doggy treats, and pretty much just wants to curl up into a ball and sleep until it’s all over – kinda of like when you have to spend Thanksgiving with your relatives, except that at least then you’ve usually got red wine and pumpkin pie to look forward to as Uncle Eddie breaks into his third story about that bitchin’ Mustang he drove his senior year of high school.  I do love me some fireworks, yes siree, but at this point if I have to start walking around the neighborhood with polaroids of the saddest, most frightened little puppy on god’s green earth to shove in the faces of each and every one of my redneck neighbors who still insists on celebrating their independence days after the fact, then as a proud dog owner who just wants his puppy to get back to stealing his slippers and peeing on the carpet like she’s supposed to, maybe that’s what I’m going to have to do!

Seriously – the 4th of July was TWO DAYS AGO!!!  Buy yourself a calendar, and maybe a frisbee or a croquet set or something and find a different way to enjoy the rest of your summer…