Until very recently, Chloe would not sleep on my bed. Every night she lay close to me until I began with the teeth-brushing and pajama-donning. Then she sent herself to her crate and stayed there until I woke the next morning.
Except on the Fourth of July.
I wouldn’t even say she is nervous. Just hyper-alert.
Wherever she is when a firecracker explodes, she stops doing what she’s doing and leaps up on the bed, and, as I just wrote to a dear friend, shoves the drapes aside with her nose. She stares out at the world with the cool eyes of a sniper and growls low in her throat.
She totally gets the Fourth of July.
“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.” Wendell Philips, 1852.
