May the fleas of a thousand rabid stray dogs infest the mangy hair and silky sheets of those setting off fireworks in The Grove and terrifying my already-terrified Nelson who doesn’t like thunder (on a very rainy day) or things that go ‘boom.’
He was sound asleep on the rug. A fireworks burst woke him. He jumped into my lap and pressed himself against me.
It’s going to be a long holiday weekend. This boy shakes and is inconsolable.