Inkwell on the Fourth

With the fireworks show canceled, there wasn't much noise on the night of the fourth, but there has been various booms and cracks over the last few days as people use their illegal fireworks. The night of the actual holiday, I retired to bed early because I needed to get up really early to go to work and write about a swim meet and the reason the fireworks show was canceled. So I was in bed before the peak of the illegal fireworks.

Inkwell had been a bit more skittish than usual because of the noise, and on the night of the Fourth he came up to the bed, found my armpit and gave me a thorough kitty-massage all through the peak time. Every once in awhile a pop would be loud enough to get through his self-meditation, and he'd stop purring and look up, but then quickly return to massaging my armpit through the blanket and purring as loudly as he could manage.

After maybe an hour of that, the noise level was low enough that he hopped off the bed and hid near the clothes hamper, on the most inside wall of the bedroom. By then I was close to sleep, and I don't know how he handled the rest of the night or if there was anything else really noisy he had to deal with.

Overall, not a bad Fourth for him, although for the town it was utterly crappy.