Fireworks Seem Like War To Your Pup

For some dogs, fireworks aren’t a celebration — they’re a nightmare. Here’s how to cope

Axel

I’ve had many dogs over the years. Some have been sweet. Others were aloof. A few were stubborn. Several were sensitive. But none have been quite like Axel.

Axel is a 75-pound Belgian Malinois, and he’s the most sensitive dog I’ve ever known. Not in a nervous, clingy way. He’s smart, capable, obedient, and alert — sometimes too alert. That’s part of the breed’s makeup: a tight coil of intelligence, vigilance, and drive. It’s what makes them excellent police dogs, service animals, and working companions.

But on nights like this — when the sky erupts in noise and light — those strengths turn against him.

To Axel, fireworks aren’t pretty or patriotic. They’re chaos. The world becomes loud, unpredictable, and explosive. There’s no warning, no way to escape it. To a dog like him, hardwired to anticipate threats and act on them, it’s a full-blown crisis. He can’t make sense of the sounds. He can’t tell himself it’s temporary. He just feels it — all of it.

And it breaks him.

So we help. Not just with affection, but with planning. Medication. Routine.

For Axel, that means a vet-approved combination of trazodone and gabapentin, both used off-label in dogs for noise phobia and situational anxiety:

• Trazodone: 100 mg

• Gabapentin: 1,200 mg (four 300 mg tablets)

• Both are given 1.5 to 2 hours before the fireworks begin

He gets the pills crushed and rolled into small hamburger meatballs — just lightly browned on the outside to make them irresistible. It’s a simple trick, but it works. For a dog too anxious to eat when the noise starts, delivering the meds this way ensures he gets what he needs before the first boom.

We dim the lights. Play music. Shut the windows. Stay close.

And we wait.

Because while many dogs bark at the noise or hide under a bed, dogs like Axel experience it more deeply, more viscerally. Their nervous systems are wired like tripwires, their minds racing ahead, anticipating the next boom before it happens. Even desensitization training often falls short with these dogs. They learn too fast. They begin to expect the worst.

People sometimes joke about dogs being scared of fireworks. But I’m not laughing, and neither is Axel. For him, it’s not just fear. It’s an overload.

If you live with a dog like this, you know. You recognize the signs: the pacing, the panting, the wild-eyed desperation. You’ve probably tried everything — thunder shirts, CBD oils, hiding places, distractions. Some help a little. Some don’t.

But what always helps is understanding.

So if you have a dog like Axel, or know someone who does, please don’t dismiss it. Don’t say “he’ll get over it” or “it’s just noise.” To some dogs, it’s never just noise. It’s panic, confusion, and helplessness.

These dogs give us everything they have — loyalty, protection, love. The least we can do is get them through a few loud nights with compassion and care.

Because for some of them, the Fourth of July doesn’t feel like freedom. It feels like war.

2025 © Professor Mike: All rights reserved.