July 5, 2019
It was a win/win night! My landlady was anxious. This would be my first Fourth of July at her house. She remembered how awful that night had been for her first greyhound, Holly, the one who passed away last August, may she rest in peace. As soon as the explosions started poor Holly would cry and shiver and shake. No amount of treats could soothe her. Would I also suffer? By sundown my landlady was a nervous wreck so at the sound of the first blast I raced to her side – I’m good at racing – to make sure she was OK. And she gave me a treat. Hm. Interesting. Second explosion, race to side, sure enough, get treat. Third, race, treat. Fourthracetreat, fifthracetreat, sixthracetreat… I hoped the night would never end. But alas it did and we’re both exhausted but happy. My landlady thinks she saved me from a terrible experience and I have a whole year to lose all the weight I gained.
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