Dog, firecracker, panic and home alone.

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Some years ago, the movie “Home Alone” hit the theaters, a lone boy did have panic events, bad-guys and adapted to the situation.

Tonight, such Hollywood adventures and good endings are not possible.  A date night with a stage play and dogs (Count them, TWO) are left home to defend the house and home.

Honey, the honey (or sand-tan) colored dog, is large, powerful and quite laid back. Sudden noises can get her to flinch, knocks on doors get her to bark. Thunder, firecrackers, fireworks, meh, not so much.  The sudden large roll of thunder might get her to raise her head, but that is about all you get out of her.

The chocolate lab, on the other hand. Not so laid back.  She hates the electronic bug zapper, firecrackers in the distance are just wrong.

Thunder? No. Just no.

Tonight, we head out to see a stage play of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”, take in a dinner and sit through the long (two intermissions!) production with a total of four actors.

A pleasant Saturday night comes to a close, on our arrival home, we find one of the french doors to the great-room all but destroyed. The door jam is pulled away from the wall, the molding around the doorway has been chewed down and torn.  Wood.  Torn.

Torn?  Big danged splinters torn off, I could fit four fingers in the gap.

Paint is torn away from the wood as if a rough file had been run over it. Not fresh paint, either!  This took some work.

What the heck? Who did this?

Looking at the big dog first, she was first suspect, by all the family, until I pointed out that the kind of damage on the door took time. A lot of time.

And fear.  Something lit off a dog.

“Perhaps a knock at the door?”

No, not enough, they would bark and reset after a minute or two, this took time.

So now, the suspect is the smaller chocolate lab, who has a panic issue. We are coming to the 4th of July and explosives — which are not legal in the area — are a nightly event.

I think a deep panic set in, the cats aren’t talking, but they point little furry fingers at the dark brown one and whisper: “that bitch is crazy.”

*sigh*

Tomorrow, the door is on the list for repaires.  I may have to take it down and begin to prepare it for paint.

No fun to come home to that kind of damage.  But she stresses beyond reason when the pops are close- full fledged beyond sanity panic.

Some (four-legged) kids you can’t leave home without drugging them. I hate thinking that, or alternately, she cannot be left alone. She needs a human to stay with.

Over the 4th of July, we are taking off to a remote area that is 1. dog friendly and 2. having stayed before, they do not do fireworks, only down at the beach. We stay far away from the beach, hiding in an air-conditioned hotel room with thick walls, after we run her to the point of exhaustion on the beach and in the surf.

That is the plan of action, we will still suffer the tail end of the fireworks for another month to come.  But the worst of it will be avoided.

How was your night?

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One thought on “Dog, firecracker, panic and home alone.

  1. sandrakerns

    Dash, I know exactly what you are writing about here. We once had someone stay at the house with our dog while we were on vacation not even thinking about the fact it was close to July 4th. When we came home the kitchen was a mess with pots and pans and food stuffs all over the floor, one of the upstairs closets was emptied of all things on the floor. We couldn’t imagine why Dave would have left such a mess. I mean, he was a very nice, respectful young man who we’d known for several years.
    THEN, a firecracker went off outside and we realized what happened. We later found a note that said he’d had to clean up the night before because Molly went crazy for some reason. Obviously, she went crazy again when he left before we got home.
    At least our destruction wasn’t as bad as yours, but yes, some dogs have terrible anxiety for such things. I hate to tell you this, but the pup probably won’t out grow it either. You might try one of those thunder coats they have for dogs now. I wish they’d had them when Molly was still around. It would have saved her a ton of stress.

    Like

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