You know, I love fireworks. I love big brassy displays like the ones at Edinburgh Castle, or over Whitehaven Harbour. There's nothing quite so exciting as those awe-inspiring pyrotechnics.
However.
I'm not a dog. I'm not a cat either, though I have to admit I'm one of those people who wouldn't mind coming back next time in feline form, so long as I can live with a nice soft-hearted old sweetie. Cats and dogs hate fireworks, and we have two of each.
I took the dogs out before darkness set in, hoping there wouldnt' be too many bags and crashes, and it seemed fine to begin with. We went off down the lane as dusk fell, and by the time we were coming back up it was nearly dark. I could barely see the dogs. There was enough light in the sky to see the path, though, and not wanting to damage my night vision I was reluctant to use my headlamp. From time to time I called the dogs, and they came running back, so I knew they were nearby.
And then one time, only one dog came back. No sign of Ghyll. I'd seen him disappear into the gloom somewhere in front, but he wasn't responding to shouts or whistles. The headlight didn't help either. We searched high and low, but there was no sign of him, so I put Pace on her lead and we hurried back home, whistling and calling his name all the way.
Almost back, my phone rang - Ghyll had returned home alone, causing Steve to think some awful fate had befallen Pace and me, of course.
We were glad that he had the sense to go home, at least, but I've no idea what spooked him. There had been a few distant fireworks, but nothing major. I guess my idea of major is different from his. I think I'll wait until after the 5th before taking them out in the dark again.
So, the dogs were safely back indoors, but the cats had been out all day and there was no sign of them at all. This is their first Guy Fawkes, really, as last November they'd been too small to go outside. Up and down the veg garden I went, fluorescent lamp in hand, shouting, "Pussycats!" as I went, but the bangs, by now, were nearby, and loud, and cats are small and able to vanish inside a hedge, so there wasn't much chance of finding them.
Finally Aineko came running back inside, but it was an hour later before her nervous brother made an appearance.
I guess we're lucky. All of us - 2 humans, 2 dogs, 2 cats - are safe and well and indoors tonight, but you can be sure the casualty units of hospitals up and down the country are full up this weekend with silly kids who've got too close to explosives and didn't know any better than to get injured. Some of them will die. Some will be scarred for life. They deserve better from us, who are a bit older and a bit wiser and a bit more experienced in life.
It really is time we banned fireworks from general sale. It's crazy allowing ordinary people to set these things off in their back gardens, let alone letting them fall into the hands of people who may be far too young to understand the dangers. Big licensed displays can be put on in every town and village: if everyone in a community contributed to their local firework fund the money they'd have spent on their own back garden squibs, can you imagine what a nice big show they could put on? And surely it's more fun to stand around in the company of your friends and neighbours enjoying something like this all together?
Sure, the dogs & cats would still be scared, but it would be just one night, not a fortnight leading up to it as well.
