We play Mozart to mask the explosions of fireworks in an effort to settle Izzy down. The industrious Trudy having returned from a walk with Izzy just as dusk was settling and only a few firecrackers were popping, we thought Izzy might be worn out enough to not care about the noise.
But she cared. She barked at the back patio door, and turned to us as if to ask us to let her take care of that noise. And she barked at the front when the noises came from there. But as I look up now, she curled up in her bed as is Trudy in ours. They have both surrendered to the night.
The popping continues in the front and back and all around. Izzy raises her head the growls and looks at me.
“It’s ok. It’s ok.”
She curls back down.
A dimming moon is rising in the east — a partial penumbral lunar eclipse. Perhaps this explains the curling and surrendering of Izzy and Trudy. Some kind of gravitational/tidal tug. Or maybe it was the heat of the day. Or maybe it was Mozart after all.