Gone to the dogs.

During the fireworks season my 12-year-old Daschund, Ally goes berserk. In previous years I’ve tried other things to keep her calm that haven’t worked, and this year I went to the vet to get something.

Who tests those little pills? Do they actually test them or are they just extremely expensive placebos for pet owners. You are lulled into a false sense of security that your pets will be drugged into a stupor and sleep through the whole explosive night. Recalling the conversation with the vet, he did say that each dog has a different reaction and that some don’t get affected at all… ahhh the plot thickens. Make me pay for the examination of two dogs, he wouldn’t give me medication without checking their hearts (R500) then give me sugar pills (R30 each). When they don’t work say, “Well I told you this might happen.” The start of a conspiracy theory, I think I should call Carte Blanche.

The vet recommended that I give the doggies the pills at 10pm, which meant that I’d have to leave the party, give them the pills and then drive back. My Dad was worried about drunk drivers and suggested I bring the dogs along, Dad can be very convincing, I agreed. The party started, the company was great; the conversation brilliant, the food tasty, the laughter and drinks flowed. Before we knew it, midnight struck and the fireworks started. My parents have a fantastic view of the city and suburbs and so we get the 360-degree visual display with accompanying stereo sound experience. It drives the dogs in the neighbourhood nuts and I was one of those doggy moms who stressed the whole of the New Year’s party.

Not only did Ally not become a calm, anaesthetised canine, even though I gave her both pills, she managed from the time we arrived at 8pm until we left at 3:30am to disrupt my evening. She scratched at the door so much she managed to remove the weather-strip. She barked, whined and tried to lick her gummy toothless way through the window. Mostly the guests ignored her and just put the music louder. My other daschie, Scratch accompanied her the whole night with his barking, locked away in another room. More stress for me.

My friend Selina, the psychologist would say I did it to myself; I chose to stress about how I thought people would react. At 11:30pm I grabbed her leash and we were attached to ourselves for the rest of the night. We made an odd twosome when I kissed hubby and the kids Happy New Year. Thinking back, the only people affected were my Dad and I. So that’s where I get the worrywart gene from!