An October night and my dog is shaking in my arms. His entire body trembles with fear. We’re huddled together on the kitchen floor and my heart breaks as he looks up at me with terror-stricken eyes, seeking comfort.

From outside comes the thud and boom of fireworks being set off. As I write, it’s still more than a week from November 5. Sadly, though, this has become the norm in recent years.

No sooner had general fireworks sales started on October 15, than it has felt like we’re under constant bombardment.

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Evenings are no longer a time for relaxing and enjoying the post-work lull with some telly or a good book. We’re constantly on edge, wondering how long until the latest onslaught begins.

A few weeks back, as Storm Ashley blustered its way across Scotland, we not only had to contend with high winds, but also with someone setting off fireworks into the early hours of Monday morning.

The mind boggles at the warped logic behind this behaviour. I wouldn’t be as flippant as to say it is like living in a war zone, but there is a definite feeling of being under siege.

A quick glance at local Facebook pages shows I’m not alone. There are myriad posts about terrified pets and young children being woken in fright, as well as general nuisance to congenial living.

Look up the laws around fireworks sales and it states that they are only allowed for private use from registered sellers three days prior to the important religious festival of Diwali, likewise Chinese New Year.

Firework sales should be bannedFirework sales should be banned, says Susan (Image: free) Yet, for some inexplicable reason, fireworks are available to buy three weeks before Bonfire Night, aka Guy Fawkes Night, and are still permitted to be sold five days afterwards (a period spanning October 15 until November 10).

The upshot is many of us having to endure a living hell under the guise of “celebrating” this archaic and pointless event which, in contemporary Scotland, has no real cultural resonance or meaning.

Perhaps you view it differently and without using the word “tradition”, I would love for someone to explain what relevance the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 has to modern life.

Yes, it could have changed the course of history but there have been countless moments in the centuries since which have been every bit, if not more seismic. Yet these are marked in far more eloquent ways.

Firework sales are like rolling out a red carpet for anti-social behaviour. I’m not talking about those who buy them for meaningful cultural or religious reasons, such as to mark Diwali, Chinese New Year, or even Hogmanay.

This isn’t a few bored kids setting off so-called “fun snaps”. These are whopping great pyrotechnic beasts scudding around the skies above our homes. The best part of a month where the selfish and senseless apparently derive endless pleasure from causing distress.

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We’ve tried everything to help our poor dog, from playing music in an attempt to drown out the bangs to buying a special jacket designed to have a soothing effect similar to swaddling a baby.

He has also been prescribed a calming supplement by the vet to help take the edge off his fireworks-induced anxiety. We’re talking about a wonderful, sweet dog who for the other 11 months of the year is happy and content.

Ditto legislation like that proposed by Luton North MP Sarah Owen to ban fireworks louder than a hairdryer. Under current rules they can be up to 120 decibels, the equivalent of a thunderclap, chainsaw, gunshot or aircraft take-off.

However, I strongly believe that we need to go further. It’s time to ban the sale of fireworks to the public altogether. Nothing will convince me otherwise.

Susan Swarbrick is a columnist and freelance writer who specialises in celebrity interviews, TV content and musings on popular culture. She also loves the outdoors and regularly covers sport. Follow her on X @SusanSwarbrick