Annual Eve of Pet Horror Returns

AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE DAY - THE LIVING ROOM, Contested Territory — At approximately 2100 hours on Saturday, ordnance detonated unexpectedly, and the household's noncombatant pets scrambled to designated emergency shelter under the bed. The terror was palpable, as a volley of explosions immediately followed, the unprepared four-legged residents flinching and scanning the room for unforthcoming human comfort.

The dog broke out the bug-out bag to retrieve his procedures. Head for the tunnel, establish the fireline and 360° security, shore up the foxhole, Hold out for support. Tactical Construction, dig under the neighbor's fence, if the attack continues for more than an hour.

He has held the same position annually since the 2019 engagement, emerging only to reassess the perimeter and, on one occasion during the grand finale offensive of 2022, to be sick on the rug. War correspondents followed this year, periodically snapchatting photos to their friend group with cute puppy and chicken emojis.

“Oh geez, man! They're over-running the line of defense. Artillery is killing us, man! Look at 'em. Thousands of incoming! It's so loud, I can't even think. We can't get away! The offensive has started! Someone radio an evac, stat! Where are the choppers, man? We need an evac, all Hell is breaking loose! We're trapped here! We are so dead! This is it, man! The final curtain. Where are those choppers?”The dog, developing a strong case of P.T.S.D.

The dog's was not the only front. Owners eventually found the housecat in a solitary location, waging a personal war all her own.

The cat went full Braveheart, escaping to the closet fortress to enact a heroic last stand in the face of more powerful storm gods. Once she jumped the protective moat of discarded footwear, she wrapped herself in a suckle-blanket, waiting for the horde of angry orc waves to break against the castle walls.

“Dusk descends onto the edge of the Demon Gate. Banshees wail, as the Dark Priests entreat their gods of THUNDER, and LIGHTNING to clap our meager stronghold with fists of Rage and Fury. The battered, ragtag defenders have dwindled from the assault, but those of us still remaining, hearts of stone and iron, ready to sacrifice our lives for the sake of our land and our families. Vigilance knows no respite, neither adjoining army to relieve our wounded and weary, we stand alone. Only the coming darkness of night to comfort our journey to victory, or to the domain of our Gods. Bring me my axe and the Cross of my Ancestors, for this shall be my final stand ...”The cat, being dramatic as usual

Pet owners, meanwhile, were immune to the horrors of the nation's holidays, enjoying barbecue meats, alcohol, and even contributing to the percussive bombardment with fireworks of their own. A splinter group of Homo sapiens has taken to cruelly mocking the victims of the incursion, referring to the 'dogpocalypse' and the 'cat-ass-trophy,' and commemorating the terrible violence with Instagram photos.

The war photos trend well, and there are already rumors of a Pulitzer for one of the grainy, underlit low-resolution camera snaps. Several of the cat-ass-trophy app photos have been removed from social media for violating terms of service, and users are already bored with the novelty app.

Sales of ThunderShirts have been brisk in the past few weeks, as responsible pet owners help their loved ones cope with the noise.

The Satyr Satire newsroom cat has not filed since Saturday and is presumed still at her post in the closet.