by Michael B. Wright
July ushers in one of those rare months of celebration. It is eagerly anticipated by grown men who “like to blow up things” (according to Dave Barry), as well as seasonal vendors, who like to sell things that blow up, and no doubt bring in the big bucks doing so, although not year ‘round.
I have recently penned a short treatise describing things I refuse to judge people by, and the things I do judge them by, one being those who choose to explode fireworks nightly for a full week following specific holidays. I am certainly not a “Scrooge” condemning those who celebrate such. Whether or not I am a celebrant is irrelevant.
But I live in Florida, and each summer, it’s mandatory that I stay on top of the weather situation, particularly concerning anticipated thunderstorms, so that I know how far in advance to give my dog Marcell a Xanax. Currently, it’s 5 PM since the storms have been coming in around 7 PM.
It takes time to prepare his pill for him, and to get him to take it. I have finalized and prepared several in advance, to be kept refrigerated in a Ziploc bag. I bury each pill within a dough ball, sprinkled with bacon drippings, and you better believe he does not spit these out. I’ve even been known to spread a little peanut butter on them as well, as a bonus, much to his delight; so much so that he recently got loose, ran into town to a record store, and returned with a CD of environmental sounds (in this case, thunderstorms) to put on his personal CD player, thinking he could con me into preparing such treats. He didn’t fool me for me for a minute.
Fireworks don’t bother him as much as thunderstorms do, but I know of a lot of other dogs who are terrified by the sounds. I’m also aware of the number of war veterans with PTSD, who have devastating reactions to the sounds, and my heart goes out to them.
I love blowing things up as much as the next guy, but I prefer to do it in the privacy of my own home, usually in the basement or the guest bedroom, while praying that it doesn’t wake my wife up.
If you are traveling north this year through South Carolina, and happen to drive by “South of the Border” “Area 51 Fireworks“ or “Red Rocket Fireworks” Mike will gladly pay you Tuesday for a package of M-80s today. Final arrangements can be made by contacting him at firstname.lastname@example.org.