These days, fireworks are set off regularly from October to mid January.
My nephew is qualified and licenced for official larger displays, and we are talking BIG MONEY that’s allowed to go up in smoke, not to mention his fee for setting things up and subsequently off.
Hubby and I both liked to ‘ooh’ and ‘aahh’ over the pretty colours, sparks, and trails in the sky as rockets shot up into the air to explode into millions of stars and secondary patterns.
Add music, and it truly was an enchanting and magical vision to behold.
In years past, Hubby always had a single rocket for his birthday, but all that has changed.
It’s not the cost, though prices are extortionate and for £10 you are lucky to get more than half a dozen fireworks and a packet of sparklers. Many families get together and hold barbecues where everyone contributes to the firework display so that their kids can have a good time and watch a show that lasts more than five minutes.
Our gripe today is why do they have to be so damn LOUD?
Whizzes, whooshes, cracks and bangs, and the dog is heading for cover, trembling like a leaf.
It is not a good time for domestic animals, even though there are forms of medication you can buy through your vet, or you may have your own personal remedy for calming your pet.
I hate to see Maggie so distressed and know there is little I can do other than try to comfort her and ensure she’s safe and nothing can hurt her.
There was a firework display scheduled for 6.15 this evening (Nov 1st) about 2 miles away. It was well advertised, so pet owners would know what to expect and when.
We walked Maggie early, as did several other dog owners, but even at 5pm, we got caught out as rockets and bangers were going off in local properties.
Luckily, Maggie didn’t bolt, but she wasn’t happy and desperate to get home.
We closed all the curtains and selected a noisy film to watch, one she is familiar with, and with the help of the wind picking up, it wasn’t too bad in the beginning.
However, there were some really loud and flashy things going off well after 7pm, and it was like World War III had started on our doorstep.
She was shaking uncontrollably, so we covered her with a jumper and Hubby kept his arms around her, stroking her all the time trying to give her reassurance. She eventually settled, though she’d raise her head every time another whizzbang went into orbit and she’d start to tremble again.
Even at 9pm, the odd firework was still going off, though it’s doubtful it was anything to do with the organised display which sounded as if it had reached its climax around 8pm.
More than likely, there will be several similar events this coming week, and Maggie will be in for disturbed evenings for the duration.
I wish someone would invent a quiet firework with all the wonder and excitement of these noisy terrorisers which play such havoc with our pets’ disposition.
But then I suppose the bigger the bang, the bigger the thrill.
They don’t call them Crowd Pleasers for nothing.