Well, our long national nightmare is over.
We have successfully made it through yet another fireworks infested Independence Day weekend, with the help of lots of love, lots of hot dogs and a little doggy xanax (It's what the vet gave her. I swear.)
I really did not want to resort to the sedatives, but then I read this and decided that if the xanax would help calm her fears, then I should do it. I knew the city was having the official fireworks show on Saturday night, so I gave her the xanax in her supper and then distracted her with hot dogs during the actual fireworks. It worked pretty well and I gave most of the credit to the hot dogs.
So on Sunday when the neighbors started setting them off and she became hysterical, I tried to only go with the hot dogs. But she was on the couch just absolutely trembling and no amount of hot dogs was helping so I gave her another xanax. After that, she was still hypervigilant and barky, but at least she wasn't shaking so badly.
Still, it was hard on her and she was not herself this weekend.
This picture does, however, prove what some of us know, and that is this:
When you are a little, teeny, tiny Bean and you are askeerd and there are noises outside going boom in the night, the safest place to be in the world is mama's bed.