From shoulder to floor, he stands a little less than two feet tall. He is small, cuddly and a bit insecure. He is our fur-baby, Charley.
Charley is no fan of fireworks, so Fourth of July weekend was traumatic for him, as it always is. I do what I can to ease the anxiety from periodically checking on him during our backyard cookouts, to letting him use our basement as a bunker, to closing all windows and doors, to just holding him when he naps.
Charley is no fan of fireworks, so Fourth of July weekend was traumatic for him, as it always is. I do what I can to ease the anxiety from periodically checking on him during our backyard cookouts, to letting him use our basement as a bunker, to closing all windows and doors, to just holding him when he naps.
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| Because I'm THAT person. |
The weeks following official fireworks are somewhat easier on the poor little guy, but not completely. Neighborhood kids and adults occasionally let off bottle rockets, firecrackers and fireworks that briefly light up the night sky.
Charley tattles on the pyrotechnic amateurs with a strange, guttural growl and a quick bark. I then repeat the shuttering, closing and holding until peace reigns again.
Lately my fur-baby, however, actually meanders into the very rooms where I've left windows open. It's as if he's waiting for the pops and crackles whose sounds are larger than his tiny body. He gets upset just the same and I lead him away from the noise and back into the quiet.
Charley tattles on the pyrotechnic amateurs with a strange, guttural growl and a quick bark. I then repeat the shuttering, closing and holding until peace reigns again.
Lately my fur-baby, however, actually meanders into the very rooms where I've left windows open. It's as if he's waiting for the pops and crackles whose sounds are larger than his tiny body. He gets upset just the same and I lead him away from the noise and back into the quiet.
We repeat the drill over and over. Silly precious little dog.
I mean, WHY? Why go into a room where it is loud, menacing and more than you can handle?
The past week taught me that I can be a lot like Charley.
As much as social media has an outpouring of support for #BlackLivesMatter and the latest victims of public executions, it also harbors counter-sentiments, justifications and outright bigotry.
These sentiments cross my timeline every now and then, and each time I read them, I leave deflated and sometimes disappointed in these thoughts lurking in the minds and hearts of some people within my social media circles.
And I guess those same people are probably disappointed in me too.
Either way, I've decided I'm smarter than my Charley. Until I'm stronger in heart and mind, I'm making a conscious effort to stay out spaces that drain and deplete; and, to live in blissful ignorance of -- well, the blissful, willful ignorance of people.
If you're feeling like I'm feeling, I encourage you to hop over to my friend Alexandra's blog and read her piece Because We Need to do Better. Her piece isn't about hand-wringing, it's about taking steps forward and problem-solving. It's really good: READ IT.
Charley's right about one thing though: sometimes the fireworks are just too much.
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