Blondie is freaked by explosions. Hell, let’s be truthful here. Loud noises cause her to run to the back of my clothes closet and try desperately to dig into the carpet until there is a hole big enough for her to crawl into and put a cover over it. So New Year’s Eve at my house she gets an extra special treat with her meal… one of momma’s little helpers… a pill that makes her smile blissfully as she snores loudly… until the first firecracker goes off. Then she awakens with a start and the rest of New Year’s Eve is spent with her on my lap trying to dig under my skin while panting heavily and blowing that lovely dog pant directly into my face as she implores me to make it go away.
By midnight, I’m begging her to get over it while slipping her another one of momma’s little helpers.
Eventually the banging stops and she goes to sleep.
And this is why New Year’s Day is so quiet at my home. She’s hung over and I’m exhausted by the effort to stay awake until midnight to comfort and/or drug her.