Monsterdog in the driver’s seat
So I am driving G to her gymnastics class, which starts at five. My watch says I have ten minutes, and even with the icy roads, we have ample time. Turn onto a narrow road a block away from our house and see a huge Toyota Tundra work truck coming our way. No problem, because he inches over to the side to let us through. As he inches, his back end fishtails, and I feel that ‘getting to be familiar’ thud as he hits my car. GRRRRRR… We get out, and I am amazed to see that he hit me EXACTLY where the last gentleman hit my four-runner- no harm. Well, it broke his taillight, but I think he could care less about that, in the grand scheme of things. We wave, I turn to go back, and see a tail wagging from my driver’s seat. A big bushy tail. A big bushy tail attached to this monster wolf-shepherd hybrid dog that has decided to jump in my car. I try to shoo him out, and he looks at me like I am a flea. Mister Tundra comes over to get him out, and he jumps over into the passenger seat- his huge muddy hairy body sitting squarely on my no-longer cute new purse and schoolbag. Eventually he jumps in the back, and lays his head against G, who is LOVING this.
Long story short, I now know that it takes three people working together to get a wolf-shepherd out of a four-runner, that dog saliva can end up slung all over a car, that some stories are better than “the dog ate my homework”, and that I should allow way more time to get to gymnastics on time.
Long story short, I now know that it takes three people working together to get a wolf-shepherd out of a four-runner, that dog saliva can end up slung all over a car, that some stories are better than “the dog ate my homework”, and that I should allow way more time to get to gymnastics on time.