Continued

Previously on the pet blog: Everything was actually going pretty great.

Groundy and I took a good long walk and saw the river (not flooded, but nice and full from the rain). We had a quiet afternoon. I let G out for the last time before anything started and got her dressed in the latest fashion for fearful dogs, which she didn't seem to mind at all.

All suited up with emotional support

Then. The fireworks started.

Now, don't get me wrong--there was a lot of shivering and shaking and general worried Ghog face, but it was not nearly as bad as last time. It could have been the Thunder Shirt, it could have been the Tammy spray, and I was definitely holding her close; however, I think the real comfort was Purrcy.

Photographic Evidence (please excuse the poor quality of these nighttime iPhone pictures):

Here, G is on top of my legs, under the quilt and P is standing on her back.

He stayed right by her side.

Holding paws!!!

Purrcy! His Royal Highness! The Aged P! Love. That. Cat. 

There was no panting and G never once tried to hide in the shower. She seemed calmer still when I turned out the light. 

All in all, Terrorfest 2014 was not so terrible. Still, Groundy would like it known that she'd prefer for fireworks to cease to exist from this day forward. Thank you very much.