Bearnaise Sauce Dogs

Fireworks

At the little ballpark here in City By the Sea, it's the first game of the year to end with fireworks. Sam raised his head at the first sound, then relaxed.

Molly would have been up the stairs, seeking higher ground. Fireworks worried her.

Sometimes on the 4th of July I took her for a ride away from town at fireworks time.

Light Princess and I both find ourselves still saying "dogs" rather than naming our singular reality.

And in that reality, I no longer have a dog who gets upset over fireworks.

They've stopped now.

I still miss her a lot.

8 thoughts on “Fireworks”

  1. (((o)))
    Also, on a totally mundane note, thanks for explaining what that noise was. Never occurred to us that it was already fireworks time… let alone that the sound would carry over here!

  2. Fireworks and dogs…always a bad mix. Did you ever read Tasha Tudor’s book, “A Time to Keep”? Every 4th of July, I still think about her corgis cringing at the sound of firecrackers. Poor creatures!
    {{{{Songbird}}}}

  3. Your “missing” makes me “miss…” I wonder if Dad’s little Chihuahua, Pancho Vila, thinks about Dad and remembers their time together. I’ve been told I’m a bit out there with my thoughts of what dogs feel and think, but I do wonder and I am convinced most of my contemplation is right. I know this makes sense to you Martha…

  4. Beatrice and Olivia HATE fireworks too. Think we’ll have to board them the next 4th of July. I miss Mollie, too, even though I never got to meet her. Love your stories about this lovely dog.

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