Monday, July 5, 2010

It's Official...

...Ray doesn't like fireworks. They were going off everywhere last night. Big displays on the corner of our street, the street behind us, all around. Gregg and I made sure we were home before things started heating up. I settled in on the couch with Ray laying on my feet.
The first big salvo of firecrackers brought Ray off the couch in a bound, yelling. I petted him and talked calmly and told him everything was all right. Back to the couch. For the next explosion, Ray raised his head and gave a menacing growl and a woof. Pet, talk calmly, everything is all right. After that, Ray didn't bother to raise his head, just lay there on my feet, growling whenever a boom disturbed him. Like an old man grumbling that the noise was keeping him awake. I continued my regimen of petting and talking calmly.
When I finally headed upstairs to bed (9:30 - I was tired from getting up at 4:00 three mornings in a row), Ray followed me. He jumped up on the bed and continued to growl a bit here and there. Gregg came up to get him after the fireworks had calmed down. When I went downstairs at 10:30 to get some water, Ray was sprawled out in his bed, as usual, sound asleep. Obviously worn out from keeping the house safe from democracy.

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