Black Doggerel

...Oh joy. Fireworks went on sale yesterday, and today is Friday.

In fact, there weren't too many today, and Spike was nicely mellowed on his melatonin and came through all right - although after one of our charming slackjawed local youth managed to set fire to Big Park, he was so freaked by the flashing blue lights that I had to sit with him in the bathroom to eat his dinner. Poor baby.

two more months of this. *sigh*

( Who shot the meme? )

In other news, I am sufficiently tired of the ever-increasing squalor of my flat that I am considering advertising for someone to clean it in exchange for sex.

In other other news, it's now been over a week since Spike last yelled death threats at a strange dog while out on a walk. He isn't dopily over-relaxed as he was the first time I gave him melatonin; he's acting Spike-normal apart from the reduced aggression. It has to be the tablets, though, because I've been trying to discourage that habit for years - I know nothing I did in the training line would make it disappear overnight.

I am having to give him a tablet pretty much every evening, because my craggy-browed neighbours are so excited about being able to make fire that they're still doing it every night, quite often not even waiting for dark. The quietest nights are Friday and Saturday. I was puzzled by that at first, then I realised that the ones who don't stop making the noise must be the ones who are out drinking those nights.

I give Spike the tablets hidden in a piece of sausage, and now he's taken to waiting by the fridge the minute he hears the first bang.

*sigh* Firework season's in full swing here already. They went legally on sale on October 15th, and since then we haven't had a single night, weekday or weekend, rain or not, that someone in my neighbourhood hasn't been firing them off.

This is partly a British thing, and also partly an effect of living on this particular housing estate. Townsend has a rough reputation, with good reason. It's full of young twenty-somethings who are often drunk and often bored, and it's stuck right out on the edge of town so that they don't have anywhere to get drunk and bored except for the many public parks and bits of common ground. And the 24-hour supermarket where fireworks have gone on sale is a five-minute walk away.

I've been trying not to give Spike a melatonin tablet every single night, but I'm finding he needs one about five nights out of seven because the bangs just NEVER FUCKING STOP. Last night there were a lot of those whistly shrieky fireworks, and he needed Rescue Remedy and a massage as well.

I'm only resisting taking the damn tablets myself because I know Spike's going to need them all this autumn. Last week while I was out walking them, two of our charming local yoof thought it was funny to let off some firecrackers right across the road from us - deliberately, I mean, after having SEEN that I had dogs. And laughing at Spike jumping out of his skin. If they hadn't been on bicycles I think I might have beaten them to death on the spot. As it was I couldn't catch the little fuckheads.

In other news, on the way back from Big Park this morning, we encountered Downstairs Neighbour and his German Shepherd. I would like to announce to everyone in the world that Spike DID NOT BARK. The German Shepherd did, because Spike has gone "I KILL JOOO" at her so often in the past; but he only gave her a dirty look. I attribute it to last night's leftover melatonin in his system, but he got so much praise and sausage for it that I hope the habit may stick.

Also please note new icon. Someone made non-movie-watching me watch Four Brothers, and now I've gone all fangirly.

My fucking split lip has swelled up and gone bright red. Whether this is an infection, a reaction to the chemicals in the hot tub or a reaction to the aloe vera lipsalve I bought on Monday, I have no idea; but it hurts and it's nasty. Not happy.

And some fucking pea-brained local adrenaline junkie - living within 500 yards of me, I might add - has picked tonight for the first firework display of the autumn. I didn't think they were even on fucking sale yet; perhaps he's saved them from last year. Luckily, he gave me a short preview several hours ago when it first got dark, and I gave Spike a melatonin then. So he's coping uncharacteristically well now. Small mercies. Once again we are massively grateful to cottonmanifesto. Love you!

My collie has a problem with his brain being missing. He found some unusually stupid squirrels while we were out playing ball, chased them up a blackthorn tree and made my heart stop by coming down with his face covered in blood. Luckily the thorns missed all the really vital parts like his eyes - once I'd cleaned it up it was just a few small cuts on his chin and tongue.

He's all like OMG I NEARLY HAD THEM!!! Love him. He deserves some joy in advance because tonight is going to be hell on him.

Not gonna do a year in review or anything introspective. Designating one block of time 2006 and one 2007 is just an arbitrary way of trying to measure the immeasurable. Time is an illusion. What happens stays happened. It's not linear.

But ( I still couldn't resist doing a couple of silly new year resolution memes anyway. )

Have a great one, all of you. And I'll be on IM tonight if any of you are staying home.

Why the fuck is some sludge-brained shitstain setting off fucking fireworks now? Not only is it not New Year for another three fucking days, it's NOT EVEN FUCKING DARK YET, YOU FESTERING CHRONOLOGICALLY CHALLENGED MENTAL MICROBE.

I hope you trip over your own dragging knuckles and land arse first on a rocket that blows your brains out. Because that's clearly where you keep them.

Not a single quark's worth of love,

Your fairly close neighbour, her hysterical shaking collie who's hiding in the bathroom, and her GSP who needs a pee but can't have one till you've finished your fucking artillery attack reenactment. Because I can't leave Spike alone in this state and I certainly can't take him out. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Bang Out Of Order

More

Let's hope something comes of this. They're still banging away out there - not close enough or sustained enough to be a real problem Spike-wise, but it startled him a few times on the way back from Grimmauld Place this evening.

In other news, I spent the afternoon cleaning out Mum's freezer, which has been standing filth-encrusted and empty ever since the Great Stinky Fridge Incident of the summer (procrastination runs in my family). I had to keep sniffing a Vicks inhaler to stop myself puking.

Gonna go loll on the couch and watch ER now. Might be on IM later. Might not.

( We haven't been having a good night. )

I didn't think Spike would put up with my jury-rigged anxiety wrap, but I believe it's actually helped some. Of course my T-shirt is way too big for my narrow little collie, but I gathered bunches of it all along his back to tighten it evenly and secured them with hair ties. He was still pretty bad during the peak of the banging but once the cats came out he settled pretty well.

*kisses LiveJournal*

OMFG that was hard. And TrekBBS down too, just when I'd started posting there again after weeks and weeks of not even clicking on it.

I've been back at TerranBBS as well. I've become so sucked into LJ that I've felt very disinclined to post anywhere else for a long time, but I had the bright idea of talking some of my LJ cronies into registering - so far we have cottonmanifesto over there. I'd like a few others. I hope it takes.

Fireworks were pretty bad, but we seem to have come through OK. The cats were a huge help. I could see Spike visibly relax and perk up when they all piled out of the cat room and Fat Hamish rubbed against his legs and purred. Cats may suck, but they certainly have their uses.

Talking to crzmslmaven the other day has got me all interested in the idea of spinning dog hair into yarn. Spike has lovely fluffy silky hair that's (probably, just) long enough to spin. It's a nearly free hobby (I'd need a drop spindle but those are cheap and that's all) and it's a thing I could do while sitting watching TV programs - I could have a Spike scarf by next spring if I keep at it. I have quite a bagful of nice soft Spikefluff gathered already!

So I'm chopping vegetables in the kitchen, surrounded by a ring of hopeful cats, and the Time Warp comes up on the playlist shuffle.

So then I'm singing along and dancing with the cats, as you do, and Naamah and I were just doing the pelvic thrust bit, and I glance up. And I see Squish staring at me, head cocked to one side, with the biggest WTF??? you ever saw in a thought bubble over him. It's a good thing he hasn't got opposable thumbs or he'd probably be ringing for the men in white coats as we speak.

Fireworks are moderately bad tonight, but Spike is doing a lot better than last year. I've dosed him with Rescue Remedy, and every time I go to the bathroom he pops in to be massaged and stroked, and he's had a really good brushing which soothed him a lot. In previous years I've spent a lot more time holding and stroking him, and I think it may have been counterproductive. The cats make a huge difference, too, especially since the worst of the banging happens at prime cat zoomie time. I may rethink my plan of taking them to Mum's tomorrow. There's less noise and better soundproofing there, and he does find his Granny very soothing, but I'm thinking the cat distraction factor may just outweigh that.

Note to self: find them something new, cool and zoomie-inducing to play with tomorrow.