A Mother’s Musings and Mumblings

It’s a tough time to be a dog. At least in my neck of the woods. For starters we just celebrated July 4th. That means fireworks. No, not just the community display in some common area or park held for the enjoyment of all. That would be what I remember from my youth. But these days, in these parts, an Independence Day celebration means fireworks every night for a week or more. Fireworks set off by neighborhood teens mere yards from my house. Adult supervision optional.

But that’s another vent.

When you add to the mix the typical weather pattern for this time of year – hot with afternoon thunderstorms – you have one very unhappy dog at my house.  The Old Man has always been a wuss when it comes to loud noises and I’ve never known why since he didn’t come into my life until he was almost a year old. Age has not settled his fears one little bit and so, last night, between midnight at 5 am, not a creature was sleeping not even a mouse.

He was on my bed every time there was thunder. Not just on my bed quietly at the foot of my bed but on ME on my bed. And if I could get him to the foot of the bed he shook until I felt like I was sleeping in a vibrating bed at some cheap motel. My mistake was not allowing this behavior. You see, this is the Old Man:

And this is the bookcase in the corner of my bedroom:

You know where this is going, don’t you?

He really does fit under that bottom shelf when he’s frightened. Well, he thinks he fits. And he’d be right if only he didn’t shake. But when he shakes the whole equation changes. He shakes, the bookcase shakes, the bedside table shakes and before you can say “Holy Sandman!” furniture is falling and taking books, papers, CDs and my alarm clock with it. The lamp went, too, making it hard to sort out what had happened until the fog in my brain cleared a bit.

So tonight I think the Old Man needs to sleep in his crate in the garage. No problem, right? This Pagan Queen is a farm girl at heart, I have no problem with four footed family members sleeping outside. There’s just one little hitch – really more of an issue for the other dogs than the Old Man, but I’m going to play on the dog theme for a bit.

Our County government, in it’s finite wisdom, has decided to pass a barking ordinance. Now, on the face of this it sounds great – shut your dog up or pay a fine/lose the dog. But in light of recent, and some not so recent, events I have to question this. Teens in my neighborhood are allowed to set off fireworks from dark until after midnight but if my dog were to bark that long I’d face a $500 fine, right? And cats are allowed to roam free but my dog is supposed to not bark at them when they decide to wander into our yard or my dog is the one to get confiscated by the government, not the cat.  I’ve eaten Swiss cheese with fewer holes in it than the logic in this ordinance! But, as a resident of this county I suppose I’ll figure something out. Something other than the Have-a-Heart traps that I’ll be putting out to collect the neighbors’ free range cats, that is. And don’t ask what the plan is for unsupervised teens……..I am a witch, remember?