The Good, the Bad, the 4th.

It started with a simple suggestion from my mom that my brother Bear, my best friend Sadie, and I should ride our horses in the 4^th of July parade in the Summer of 2005. And not just any parade, but the biggest parade in our surrounding area. Why? Because everyone wants to see three random kids carrying some flags on horseback.   So with three ridiculously oversized red t-shits, three American flags, and three mediocre behaved horses, we were lined up as entry number 12 amongst all the bells and whistles of what is the Oakley Parade.  After a few waves and plastered smiles, we wondered why the crowd seemed to be in a constant state of confusion. Turns out our entry form never made it to the announcer, and the real slot number 12 belonged to that of the Summit County Rodeo Royalty.  Yes ladies and gents, we rode in style the entire route as we so wrongly and unknowingly represented the Queen, as my brother, and Sadie and I accompanied him as the 1^st and 2^nd attendants. 

And for some reason, the 4^th of July still seems to be my favorite holiday.  I’ve decided in the more recent years to steer clear of any parade participation….until this year.  Surprisingly, it didn’t involve a horse, bad fashion, or false identification.  Instead Ashley and I threw candy at the entire Bridger Valley in support of a local political candidate. The day went off in perfection as it was followed by the homecoming of our Idaho family, bratwursts on the BBQ, and a big firework show. 

The end.

Oh wait, you thought this could actually end without mention of the boys and their firework encounter?

Wishful thinking.

Every year Tank ignores the burst of brilliant color happening above him and Zip hides in complete terror.  This year, we happened to take them to the park with us to sit on the blanket and enjoy show.  We thought much of the same would happen; oblivion/denial and mental breakdowns.  At the first bang Tank body rolled into us in surprise of the noise, and then immediately took guard and proceeded to attack the fireworks, barking and all.  Zip, amidst the confusion of Tanks attack mode and his own fear, began to bark fervently at the explosions happening yards in from of him.  Mind you, we did choose rather close seating.  Moments later, we noticed they turned the fear into interest and utter amazement (like mommy like puppy). They literally sat and watched as the fireworks left the ground and flew into the air with a bang setting off an explosion of color. 

I wonder, what do fireworks look like to colorblind dogs?