The Beagle is notorious for his sensitive ears. He hates loud noises- sirens, guns, thunder, motorcycles, tornado warnings, firecrackers, smoke detectors, shampoo dropped in the shower ... he's very sensitive to noise.
Especially fireworks.
There was that one time, last year, where he accidentally stayed outside during the fireworks display in our town, and he ran away for 12 hours. That was a bad time. This year, we knew better.
Daddy secured the poor fella in the basement while partygoers like you and I reveled in the beautiful display from our front lawn. The Beagle hid, cowered, drooled, shook, and prayed for August.
You, on the other hand, enjoyed all of 60 seconds of the display in my lap before you were hollerin' for your daddy and to get inside away from the fireworks as well. You then felt much, much better about your new perch to view the show from behind two panes of glass.
It's OK if you only went in because you felt bad for the Beagle.
I know he appreciates your empathy.
I watched enough to tell you both what you missed.
And Daddy spent his birthday eve doing what he does best: loving and calming his people.
It all worked out in the end.
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