SO... Let me tell you about a stinky part of car rides. Sometimes, when the car gets too full, we have to squish. Usually, "squishing" means that Dagan and I have to share the back seat - a seat made for 3 butts, rather than the cargo area. Every once in a while, "squishing" means that I have to sit in front with feet and Dagan gets a seat in the back. But, on a really squishy day, this is what it meant:
Yup... Me and Dagan sharing the space meant for feet! These people are crazy! I was super duper tired that day too. We had been to Fun Day, then loaded up the car to come home. The problem was that the stuff we had to take home went to Fun Day in 2 cars! AND it was just me on those trips!
But, when we were heading home earlier than expected, and only slightly squished, someone had the fantastic plan that we should pick up Dagan from the sitter. Umm... If I am sitting with feet, doesn't that tell you there's no room for an extra dog?? Guess not. Sigh. So, the original plan was for me to sit on the floor and Dagan to sit on Mom's lap. Not fabulous, but at least Dagan's big butt wasn't taking up my space - just my looking room was limited.
But then we hit a bump.
While going around a corner.
Dagan slid off and landed on top of me! Big Butt is not a light weight! Seriously people! We are talking at least 10 pounds heavier than me! Squishing me to the ground, pushing all the air out of my body, not allowing me to move. It was like Chinese Water Torture. Only without the water. And it was Labrador, not Chinese.
Once all the air had been squished out of my body and I could no longer stay conscious, I let myself dream of things awaiting me in the cargo area...
To keep bones safe, slip them into the door pull. Only occasionally do they slip out while the lift gate is up, falling to the ground. Luckily, when that happens, Mom is usually there, so her head breaks it's fall (I mean really! I would be seriously bummed if my bone got hurt!)
OK - just writing about this is bringing the Labrador Butt Torture back in such vivid color (or no color - I had so little oxygen that my eyes weren't working correctly!), that I have to go hide. On a dog bed. Under a blanket.
Wags,
Foley