I am weary today. Behind the eyes/just crawl into bed/where the fuck is the chocolate weary.

Work was fine yesterday. Easy enough, loads of people got to go home, and I earned great overtime. Then I met Kevin at Milt and Lori's new house (gorgeous, huge, in the middle of fucking nowhere) for some 4th of July celebrating. I'm not the most stellar company after a 12 hour shift. Then add a 45 minute drive to a new place. But it went OK, until I opened my big mouth. And got really angry.

I showed some tact when I opened my big mouth and interfered. I whispered my observations quietly in her ear, rather than blurting it loudly like I really wanted to. The first time I tried a little stealthy tact, throwing out a "casual" observation.

Hey, it's getting pretty loud out there, is your puppy OK?

They brought their puppy to the party. Their 3-4 month old baby puppy. This puppy was in her crate OUTSIDE surrounded by ALL THE FUCKING NOISE. As most animal find fireworks very traumatic, and every year shelters get filled with runaways looking for safety, I thought this was an "interesting" choice for this puppy.

The second time, after they had briefly glanced at their dog in the kennel, I couldn't help it. I waited five minutes, then looked at the puppy myself. This baby was huddled in the crate, curled into a tight little ball, eyes wide open, shivering from fear and cold.

Now I was done and was officially going to interfere. Gladly.

I took myself upstairs where mommy and daddy were playing games with the crowd. I whispered in her ear, "Your dog is shivering in a ball in her crate. Perhaps you want to do something about that."

They did. Not wanting their party to be interupted, mommy carried this baby puppy in her arms outside to watch the constant stream of noisy fireworks. Noisy, scary fireworks. Brilliant plan.