Wanna go for a ride? – Photo: L. Weikel
Wanna go for a ride?
This morning both Brutus and Pacha eyed me skeptically when I enthusiastically chirped, “Wanna go for a ride? Who wants to go for a ride?” The last time they went for a ride with me was to the vet for another set of shots a few weeks ago. Their enthusiasm remained underwhelmed when I threw in a further enticement, “And then we’ll take a walkie?”
If looks could say, “Umm, no,” they speak it fluently.
The thing is, I knew they would enjoy the walk. We’d be exploring new territory (for them, anyway) so there would be an abundance of new odors, as well as a plethora of nooks and crannies to explore.
We were going to meet a dear friend to walk along the towpath between the canal and the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River). As you know, the pups generally love taking walks – unless, of course, temperatures are in the wind chill vicinity of zero or below or, Goddess forbid, it’s raining. Rain is an utter deal breaker. It’s worse than snow by a mile. But the sun was shining and I could tell the day was already milder than yesterday.
“Did someone say ‘puppaccino?'” (Brutus) – Photo: L. Weikel
Pit Stop
I wanted to splurge and supply a hot beverage for my friend and me to enjoy on our walk. When I thought it through, though, I realized I had to go to a Starbucks with a drive-thru, for the carnage two puppies could do to the inside of my car if I left them unattended for even ten seconds could be catastrophic. So I negotiated a slight detour to a drive-thru in a nearby town.
As we began our journey, the pups settled into the dog bed I placed on the passenger’s side seat. Pacha seemed to fall asleep immediately, while Brutus leaned against her and simply eyed me with a slightly baleful expression.
He perked up slightly as we sat in line to place our order. There was something familiar going on here, and he knew there was something pleasant associated with it. I could tell he couldn’t quite place it…
And then I rolled down my window and placed my order. While I wanted to order puppaccinos for my babies, I didn’t want to chance them getting sick. This was a lot longer ride than running to the vet, and I was becoming uncomfortably aware of the stench of mothballs* wafting through the vehicle, despite my best attempts to open all the windows a couple of inches to keep the air circulating.
I hesitated when the barista asked, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” I casually mentioned that I would love to ask for two puppaccinos, but didn’t think that was the best idea.
Brutus’s head snapped up and he had both paws on the center console in a split second. “Did you say puppaccino? Mommy? Did someone say puppaccino?” And yes, he literally began licking his lips.
Best Laid Plans
When I got to the pick-up window, I endured the overwhelming disappointment emanating from Brutus when I declined their offer. I did accept two small dog treats instead – to which Brutus promptly turned up his nose. Nope. He knew what he wanted and it wasn’t a random hard breadstick.
Well, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes later, I noticed Brutus was licking his lips a lot more – and drooling a little – and I had no illusions that this was related to a puppaccino. No, I knew he was readying himself to do a purge.
And yes, once again, he quietly (I’ll never get over how much quieter dogs barf than cats and their histrionic heaving and acking) left the contents of his breakfast, which he’d eaten a good two and a half hours earlier, all over the center console of the car. He also managed to throw up a goodly pile on the dog bed, slightly on and perilously close to his sister.
This not being my first rodeo with this pup, I’d at least come prepared with a roll of paper towels, which I used to haphazardly mop up and consolidate the…evidence. (Thank goodness it doesn’t smell like people barf, is all I can say.) Brutus, looking alternately accusatory and remorseful, then curled up and tried to sleep.
Two minutes away from our destination, Pacha suddenly stood up and tried to get into my lap. While I sympathized with her desire to extricate herself from her brother’s embrace, I had a feeling she was headed for a similar destination. Stopping at the stop sign literally 100 yards away from our destination, Pacha blew lunch all over her front paws, the back of their seat, and the arm of my jacket.
Wow. Unlucky. I just had to laugh.
Ice Sliding – All Better! – Photo: L. Weikel
All’s Well
In spite of it all, we ended up having a wonderful walk along the – very smooshy – towpath. I should’ve taken a photo of them with their mega-muddy paws, nearly caked up to their ‘elbows.’
Once we got home and regaled Daddy with gory details of our adventure, we took another walk. This time, they purged themselves (no pun intended) of their muddy memories and engaged in some serious ice-sliding – a pastime growing more and more beloved on each frozen outing.
*Karl insists on keeping packs of mothballs in the car due to our experiences of having mice move in and use our vehicles as homes, especially during the winter. Even worse, they’ve been known to eat the wiring for snacks. A pretty unsustainable situation, but for which we all seem to be paying in degrees of nausea. It makes the answer to “Wanna go for a ride?” a lot less enthusiastic than it would be otherwise.
(T+61)
