Blogging Friends.... I hope all of my Readers who reside in America
enjoyed themselves a happy and safe July 4th!! Here is my experience with Rose, who suffers from noise phobia.... Love you later.
For those of you who have not read it yet, I finally--three
freakin' days later than promised!!--posted my July fictional children's story on Minuscule is good! !! Go ahead. Read it!! And be sure to leave comments!! So I know you visited!!
Congrats, congrats, congrats to Robert Downey Jr., Susan, and
Exton as they are adding a girl to
their little family in November!! I
am so very happy for them!! I've always
thought that Robert--especially considering his past--should have a daughter. How so? Nothing against sons, but a daughter eternally holds an incredibly special
place within her Daddy's heart. Robert. An ex-drug addict. Is having a daughter!!
It's nothing short of beautiful.
Bombs explode in warzones. And they are set off during terrorist
attacks. Bombs' powerful blasts turn homes into rubble. They blow off people's
limbs. And worst of all, bombs kill. I am not an Army soldier who served in
Iraq. Nor was I a runner during the Boston Bombing Marathon. And I hope to
never {Ever, ever, ever!!} witness or experience the real thing. These were thoughts which crossed through my crazy never-shuts-down head as I sat on our hard tiled "Boy's
Bathroom" floor while fireworks, illegal booming pretty explosions and
bottle rockets {Or "bombs" as I call them both!!} were lit on
Independence Day night. I hope to never
{Ever, ever, ever!!} witness or experience the real thing. There truly is
no escape from fireworks in our one-level home. For we do not have a basement. So, after a few distant fireworks, I
linked Rose's collar with her spare red leash and "held my girl
hostage"--in "our" bedroom. Then, when they stopped, I released
a very cautious Rose. She wandered
toward our great room. I followed her. Well. It was 7:30 PM when the first resounding,
booming, nerve-racking, heart-stopping, terrifying "bomb" went off
behind our house. I gasped. Rose
abruptly jumped up from her lying position by our red great room
loveseat. Again, I followed my little
girl, figuring that Rose would lead me to the "Boy's Bathroom". She did not. Rose wandered down the hall toward my parents' bedroom, instead. I gently grabbed her collar, another red
leash in hand. I linked it to Rose's collar and lead us toward the "Boy's
Bathroom". It serves as an incredible
sound barrier!! Although we can still
hear fireworks, illegal booming pretty explosions and bottle rockets {Or
"bombs" as I call them both!!} I, myself, feel safe in the "Boy's Bathroom" on Independence Day!! As
does Rose. Anywhere else in our home and she trembles, pants or tries to
escape. Poor baby!! Not that I blame her. When I momentarily stepped foot into our darkened great room and stretched
my legs, there were twain sudden flashes of fireworks-created light. I jumped,
then whispered these words. "I am feeling unsafe in my own house!!" Not
surprising. I always feel unsafe in my own home on the 4th of
July!! Yes, always. But I never feel unsafe on the hard tile "Boy's Bathroom" floor!! As I sat next to Rose, and stroked her velvet-soft fur, I bemused myself with this far-out thought. It feels like we're hiding in a bomb cellar!! I know, I know. But that is--in a minuscule sense--how it
feels!! Behind our house resides a semi
truck driver. As he drives across
America, this "neighbor"--who I have not met--purchases illegal fireworks
that result in booming pretty sky lit explosions.
He is safe and responsible. But
these "bombs" are resounding, booming, nerve-racking, heart-stopping,
and terrifying!! This year, The Trucker was not
home!! That being mentioned. Despite
our outside world setting off countless
"bombs" anyway, the "Boy's Bathroom"
felt safer this year!! Somehow. Rose--as per usual--even slept through several "bombs".
Although some fireworks made my canine's
eyes suddenly pop open and inhale deep Drama Queen sighs. Rose otherwise escaped to Dreamland, as her legs twitched. No tremors worked their way through my mutt's poor body. She never panted hard and salivated. Rose
simply snored!! Oh, how I'd wished I possessed that ability as I was tired and exhausted all day long on July 4th!! I do not know if it was the several consecutive late nights due to
pre-Independence Day fireworks. Or horrid
hot Summer weather. Or the manual labor
of exchanging my brother Michael's bedroom with our sister's. Or happily chasing after my energetic two-year old niece, "Amethyst"
on Independence Day. Or the stress of
spending five freakin' days writing my July fictional children's book. {I
am already thinking about next month's story, by the way!!} Or.... Nonetheless. I was tired and exhausted!! After everybody
in our home attempted slumber among seemingly endless "bombs", I
mixed up my ultimate chocolate
addict's recipe. About 1/2 cup Hershey's
syrup--no, I have not measured it!!--mixed into pure white milk!! Yum!! I
mixed it up in a glass as swiftly as I
could {While "bombs" were lit above
our roof, therefore terrifying
me!!} then I poured my "chocolate/chocolate/chocolate milk" into one
of our bottles so that Rose could not drink it. Because accidents occur. I was partying hard. Hey, I do not too much care for alcoholic beverages!! I was going
to get "high on chocolate". Because
I needed it!! A result which is ineffective, I'm afraid, when I am exhausted. Did you know that when the Boy's Bathroom toilet seat is
down, it makes an awesome makeshift table?!
Well? The counter/sink is too high up
from where I was sitting!! There I set my "chocolate/chocolate/chocolate
milk"!! Pop the toilet seat back up,
and I can urinate in it!! Which, I did!! Toward the end of everybody's
fireworks, illegal booming pretty explosions and bottle rockets {Or
"bombs" as I call them both!!} I was dozing off on our hard tiled
Boy's Bathroom floor, my back against the opened hollow wooden door, my feet
between its toilet and sink. "Bombs"?
What "bombs"? I was suddenly determined
to sleep through them alongside Rose right then and there!! But alas, I could not. For every time
yet another resounding, booming,
nerve-racking, heart-stopping, terrifying "bomb" went off, this light sleeper--me--popped open her
eyes!! Oh well!! I would have awoken the
following morning with my butt and legs asleep, anyway!! Although. The bathtub would have made a good makeshift
bed!! And I am just now thinking of this
because....? Rose lets me leave the Boy's Bathroom--or our "bomb
cellar"--so I do get to briefly
witness some booming pretty explosions out our living room windows while stretching my legs!! It was 12:15 AM. "The cone is
silent", to quote a line from Twister. Or
so I thought. I quietly called
Rose into "our" bedroom. She stood
up from her lying position on the
Boy's Bathroom floor. Willingly!!
Rose then walked toward "our" bedroom and lay on her comically-sized
dog pillow as though no "bombs" were ever lit!! I was shocked and surprised!! What a resilient girl!!
Then, as I was checking our great room sliding glass door to make sure it had
been locked--my pre-bed ritual--apparently yet another "bomb" or two exploded. Ugh. Rose returned back
to the Boy's Bathroom--or our "bomb cellar"--and I will never, ever, ever forget her apologetic, untrusting facial expression
when she looked directly at me with a
pair of big brown "Beagle" eyes. I felt so very guilty, so very terrible!!
Did my facial expression look displeased?
Because I was most certainly frustrated. But not at Rose!! No, I was frustrated with the seemingly
never-ending fireworks. I was frustrated
with everybody's late, late, late night insanity. The thought that crossed my
mind during those ungodly hours was this. She'll
never trust me again!! Eventually, I was forced to give up as distant fireworks, illegal booming
pretty explosions and bottle rockets {Or "bombs" as I call them both!!}
still exploded. My clock now ticked at
almost 1AM. And I was desperately in need of some sleep!! So I grabbed Rose's collar and gently
pulled her out of the Boy's Bathroom.
Literally!! I lead Rose to "our" smoky-smelling
room--because the window was open--closed its door, heard a few faraway
"bombs", apologized
profusely, lay in my bed, then attempted slumber. Until another nearby resounding, booming, nerve-racking,
heart-stopping, and terrifying "bomb" was lit. I popped open my eyes, checked on Rose, attempted slumber again, then yet another "bomb" exploded. Sigh. It was nearly 1:20 AM
when our outside world became silent!! At last....
