The park across from Casa de Buddy is the site of our town’s annual fireworks display and I was a bit apprehensive about the Budster’s reaction this year.
The fireworks are so close that you can both hear and feel their percussive booms inside, but Bud’s been hearing them every year since kittenhood. The first few years I stayed inside with him to make sure he was okay, and to let him see how relaxed I was.
It’s never been a problem.
However, we are talking about a cat who sometimes freaks out at the rustling of a paper bag, and over the past year or two he’s become a little more sensitive. I attribute that to old age.
The fireworks here are no joke:
I gave Bud some grinded-up catnip, knowing that it calms him because he eats the stuff instead of just sniffing and rolling in it like civilized cats do. Then I waited until the explosions began, saw no visible reaction from Bud, and went outside to join everyone else.
When I got back, Bud was splayed out on the floor without a care in the world. He poked his head up as if to say “Ah, there were fireworks today, human? I hadn’t noticed!”
The Budster’s still got it!
We had our town’s fireworks today, I presume, because there are a metric crapton of July 4 events this year, and a neighboring town is known for their world class fireworks display which is always the night of. I still appreciate our display: it’s paid for by a local mom-and-pop business that is extraordinarily generous with the community.
Anyway, what could be more ‘Merican than celebrating our nation’s birthday by blowing things up? ‘Merica!
Pain In The Bud 