So, fireworks. Bad times for dog, apparently. I was wondering why I never realized Brody was a big wuss when it came to fireworks, but I realized that in Arizona every freakin' neighbor doesn't set off fireworks, cuz, y'know, it's illegal and stuff. But here? They do. Even on the fifth of July. Brody stayed home by himself tonight for the first time in 3 days. And apparently there were more fireworks going off (I heard some at work, and that's not even near residential areas). When I got home tonight, I saw that Brody had tried to claw his way out of the house. Part of the frame around the door was all torn up, and there was an unmistakable 3-claw scratch on part of the dry wall. Yikes. I think it's all patchable with putty, I hope. Apparently Brody just isn't a true American patriot.
I got my trampoline all put together by myself! (almost... I was advised that it would be advantageous to hold off on putting every spring on because if I were to, oh, I dunno, get a pad as a gift, it'd require putting some of the springs through it. So I stopped, y'know, just in case).