Straight From Anya: What the Bloody $@$%@#%@#^% was That All About

I know Mom blogged about fireworks the other day, I was there, sitting right behind her while she wrote and posted the thing, but I really didn’t understand what the big deal was. I was more interested in snoozing. IMAG3795_1

Friday night came and went, no big deal.I played with Toby and Cougar. Showed my stuff blue dog who was boss. Got bored. Practiced running really fast. Just a typical night in this chiweenie’s life.

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Saturday night was a little different. I got my heartworm medicine. Mom thinks it’s ridiculous I have to spit it out each time my teeth crack the pill, stare at it for a few seconds, pick it up, break it in half and repeat the process four or five times before swallowing the pill. I think the fact she uses silverware is stupid so I guess we’re even.

 

Anyway, getting back to Saturday night. I went through my monthly ritual with my heartworm medicine, ate the hot dog Mom got me as a reward, and settled in for some cuddle time. Things were going great until there was some strange pop-pop-pop noises to the north of us.

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I listened.

I looked at Mom. She told said the noise was fireworks.

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Happy to have an explanation, I relaxed. I even opted to go with Mom into the barn so I could play with Toby while she checked on the horses. It wasn’t a big deal.

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Okay, maybe I got a little bit nervous towards the end, but I thought I handled it like a trooper. I was a fireworks master!

Than Sunday night happened. That’s the night everyone in the entire town decided to set off their own fireworks. It was really loud. I didn’t think it was ever going to stop.

I considered my options and decided the best place to hide was under mom’s desk chair. It’s a pretty good setup for a little dog. It’s covered, it’s familiar, and mom is really close by. Since mom always uses a lap blanket while she writes, the spot feels a little cave like.

Just as I was getting secure, the unthinkable happened.

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My mom got up and left me.

What the …!

She said she had to check on the horses and make sure they hadn’t run through the fence, but I’m not sure I believe her. I mean she didn’t smell like horse sweat or hay. She smelled a little smoky. I’m seriously wondering what she was really up to. When the next set of boomers went off a few minutes after 11, she also said a few bad words, the ones she said I couldn’t use when we discussed the Articles Under Which we Sail, before running out of the apartment.

When she came back to the apartment, she gave me a couple of Beggin’ Strips for being such a good, brave girl, so I decided to forgive her. After that, all was well with the world. Well, mostly.

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Ta for now,

Anya, The Farm Chiweenie

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