My last dog used to love Halloween—all those people, coming just to see her! And those costumes didn't faze her at all. She even loved giving out candy, as long as she got a few pieces.
Sparky, who still thinks Mailman is the scariest goblin who ever broached the doorstep, is not quite so welcoming. We tag team him—one of us stays back with him, giving him treats, while the other answers the door and rewards the trick-or-treaters. Eventually I let him get closer, close enough to see they're carrying candy, not mail, and that they have no intention of putting any bombs or other incendiary devices through the mail slot.
He's absolutely fine with candy carriers; just not mail carriers.
Still, Halloween isn't a day I enjoy, even when I was a kid, so I'll be glad when it's over. Then the real horror starts—Guy Fawkes Day, with fireworks (which really do sound like bombs) going off every night for a week or two.
The explosions will be greeted by another explosion inside our house. Barking is the key, it seems, to getting rid of anything scary. We have tried to associate the sound of fireworks and the rare thunder with cheese, but it seems to be a losing battle. Turning on a fan, music, a TV, and going upstairs—which seems safer—is how we deal with it now, armed also with a squirt bottle of cheese.
There's a concept in dog training of the "bomb-proof" dog. That was my first dog. She was confident and self-assured, never complaining, even when bone cancer was attacking her leg. Bomb-proof dogs are easy. They're easy to train, but then, they don't need to be trained, not in the same way Sparky does.
Most dogs, I suspect, are more like Sparky, with healthy fears of both thunder and bombs. And mailmen. If there's a trick-or-treater who really, really wants a scary costume, I suggest a red vest, a pair of shorts, and a reflective mail bag.