When in doubt, end with British-style sarcasm.

Although I look forward to Halloween every year, I am gradually coming to the realization that my current lifestyle is not conducive to fully enjoying the holiday.

By “lifestyle”, I of course mean “dogs”.

Nothing will ruin a fun night of jack-o-lanterns, trick-or-treaters, and copious snack-sized chocolate bars like a couple of insane dogs. They go apeshit when anyone comes near the house, which frankly, has come in handy. But it makes the prospect of answering the door fifty thousand times in one night a little tiring.

Also, some children are scared by the dogs. Really scared. Like, absolutely terrified. It ruins their fun. (Which is ironic, if you think about it… Halloween… scary things… black fly in your chardonnay…)

So Dan and I try to keep them away from the front door, which means that one of us has to babysit them in another room, because the prospect of being in the same house, but not having instantaneous access to us at all times, is really more than they can take.

Also right out: jack-o-lanterns in the windows, because they are technically food. And with me being a country hick, I am convinced that the instant pumpkins are placed on the porch, they will be hurled into the street by ruffians where they will start a Chicago-scale conflagration, so I don’t like to put them out there.

And, of course, every single candy wrapper MUST be accounted for, unless we want to find them in the lawn next spring after the snow thaws. If you don’t know what I mean, then you don’t have a dog.

So, to recap: tons of barking followed by isolation, crying kids, candy under lock and key, and anxiety over vandalism and arson.

Shame it’s only once a year, really.