Ricochet got his first road trip under his belt this week. Let’s just say that Ric and I learned a lot about each other during our 12 hour adventure…
I had it all planned out. Nothing could go wrong. I had purchased one of those really handy safety restraints that clips into the seatbelt and laid a blanket across the backseat. Ricochet was going to lounge and be comfortable. I had looked ahead to where all of the travel centers were so that we could go for nice 20 minute walks every couple of hours to stretch out and burn some energy. I brought water, food, and his travel dishes to keep him fat and happy. It would be perfect.
We left exactly when we wanted to without a problem. Ricochet was stretched out and belted in the back seat and looked rather content. So far so good…until we reached the first roadside oasis.
I put Ric on his leash and started off for, what I thought would be, a peaceful and relaxing walk. It was this day and this time when I found Ricochet’s fear (or excitement? It’s hard to tell if he wants to attack them, run from them, or eat them). Semi Trucks. They were everywhere. Every time a truck would move, Ricochet would bark incessantly, lunge forward, and jump four feet in the air like a demented kangaroo. There would be no leisurely walks to be had.
No big deal, no big deal. I could still work with this. He seemed to be enjoying himself in the back seat so I would just stop for quick potty breaks and not do a walk if there were a bunch of trucks (which is every roadside oasis…). Keep going. Ricochet was happily riding, looking out the window, and sleeping. Suddenly, I had to break a little harder than I would have liked (of course while driving through Chicago) and that sweet dopey dog comes tumbling into the front center console looking both confused and proud of himself. What? How? His belt is only like 18 inches long!? He should be secure. Did I forget to buckle it? I grabbed his leash attachment…or at least what was left of it. The little bugger ate right through the leash! So here I am driving through traffic with a loose dog barking at 18 wheelers that he could now run across the car to fend off.
I gave him a quick push to the back seat. Luckily, I had a bully stick in my purse (what? You don’t carry a dehydrated bull penis around with you? Why not?). This would be a perfect distraction. I tossed it back to Ricochet and kept going.
This worked well for about 10 mins. You see, Ricochet still isn’t used to having nice things and often will only enjoy a toy or bone for about 5-10 mins before he gets nervous and goes and buries it outside for safe keeping. However, he had no access to the outside so that shouldn’t be an issue , right? Wrong. After about 10 minutes, he jumps into the far back and begins digging into the back mat cover and throwing it around to hide his precious resource.
After this he went back to his seat and fell into a lovely and peaceful sleep. We made it to our destination safely and with the wisdom that, on the way home, Sir Ricochet will certainly be riding in his crate.
The Heralding Hound 