My town pulls out all the stops on July 4th – parade, games and food and pie eating contests, fireworks, barbeques – you name it, we got it.
President Grover Cleveland was a summer resident, around the turn of the 20th century; many of his descendants are year round residents, including his youngest grandson, George, who sometimes appears dressed as his grandfather. This year “Grover” rode on a float in the parade, and Chico got a chance to meet him.
It was quite hot by parade time at 11, so we stood in the shade in front of the library to watch. There was a lot of clapping for the different floats, the firetrucks loosed their sirens, there were other dogs, and (other than ‘applauding’ as he does) Chico was quiet and attentive, lying on the ground just behind me and looking at the parade passing by.
We stayed home for the fireworks that evening, climbing the hill behind the house to look down on the show taking place about a mile away. We could see fireworks from at least three towns, plus neighbors, near and far, who set off their own displays. As the fireworks tailed off, nature took over with a heck of a lightning show that had me scurrying to get home before the skies opened up.