Baby, you're a firework

So, after an evening of the neighborhood kids playing with firecrackers, the big guns kicked in about twenty minutes ago.

There's a family about a half-mile away from here that does a great fireworks display. And it's kind of awesome, 'cause I can watch it right from my living room, due to neighborhood geographics.

I was kind of wondering how the cats would react. So I made sure they were inside, and shut the pet door, about a half an hour ago, just in case they got freaked out. The verdict?

Sodapop? "Meh. Noise? What noise? Let's play!"

Ponyboy? "The firecrackers were okay. I can deal with THAT noise. but wait ... this BIG NOISE? Holy shit where's the underside of the bed oh wait I'm okay let me come out hahaha I was just kidding OH MY GOD here comes the noise again WHAT THE F*CK where can I hide?"

Tinks? Okay, I kind of figured that Tinks might be okay with this shit, seeing as how he spent his kittenhood last summer, before he came into rescue care, about two blocks from the local AAA baseball stadium, meaning he heard fireworks about three times a week last year.

Aw, Tinks. He tried valiantly to hold it together at first, all, "Oh yeah, I remember this stuff from last year, when I was a kitten, it's all okay, no big deal, HOLY MARY MOTHER OF CHRIST I NEED TO HIDE RIGHT NOW." So he is holding down the fort underneath the bed in spare bedroom right now.

Don't worry, kitties. You're safe and sound.