Bonfire night

It's not the same. We got our Standard fireworks box on the night. Before that we were busy stocking. Going into the park after the Keeper had left. Silhouetted against the sky festooned with branches and twigs we looked like a line of wild animals. The twigs turning into horns or peacocks tails. No security men in glowing yellow jackets, no fancy stalls. Mrs Lomax made several meat and potato pies cooked in enamel washing up bowls, Mrs Walker made the Parkin and Mrs Green the treacle toffee. The men were in charge of the roasting spuds. There might be a few burnt fingers from the spuds and clothes sometimes smouldered from the flying sparks. But I don't recall any major incidents.

The fireworks weren't as good. Jumping jacks were the only ones we found a little frightening. Catherine wheels did not always spin and Rockets did not always soar out of their milk bottles. But we had a good time. I still would like to go to a bonfire and love the smoky smell which brings back so many memories.

There is one thing though that really makes me very angry and it is the reason why I have not been to a bonfire for many years. At present, panting and shaking from head to toe, Lucy , my dog will either be sitting in the shower, or the downstairs toilet, or inside a wardrobe. She is absolutely terrified. I have tried all the remedies, calming tablets which if you follow the instructions cost about £15, sedatives which cost over £20 and the plug in things which are supposed to give out the reassuring scent of a mum.

She doesn't eat, drink or relieve herself for approximately 16hours. She has, thankfully never had an accident. In fact I am seriously, when she passes on, considering selling off her DNA .

Why am I angry. It's only one night of the year. Today is the 10th of November and for the last nine days we have had fireworks from 4pm until anywhere between 10pm and 2am. I would love to know who is letting them off then Lucy and I could walk round when everyone's asleep and she can bark her little head off.