It’s quiet now.  That will change after the sun goes down.

I’m scratching Max’s head and ears.  I thought he was hanging around because he liked me.  No, he smelled a forgotten treat in my pocket.

This July 4th we’re trying calming medication from a pet supply store.  Wish me luck.  I sure hope it works.

Max’s reaction to fireworks seems to get worse every year.  He wanders aimlessly, looking for a place to hide.  If he weren’t inside–I’m afraid he’d dig out of the yard.  I don’t begrudge revelers having their fun.  But, I dread July 4th and new Year’s Eve more and more every year.

Good–a spontaneous rainstorm.  Was I praying for a rainout?  I’ll never tell–it will only delay the inevitable.