Day Four of Our Road Trip

“Let’s bring Olive,” I suggested one evening. “She is so miserable when we leave her, she’ll get used to the van, it will be fine.” The response was less than enthusiastic, with a list of logical reasons why we shouldn’t. However, when the day finally arrived, I loaded up the dog bed, the dog treats, the dog leashes, and the dog’s seat belt into the van. Guess who won the argument? Logical reasoning has never worked on me.

As I attached Olive to the seat belt with the carabiner supplied ( it broke immediately, wait for that review on Amazon), I clipped the small leash that fit into the seat belt, adjusted her dog bed with several bungee cords so she would be nice and cozy, patted her head and received a look from her that could only be interpreted as “WTF!” First 5 minutes, she tried to hang herself by jumping off the seat, then she tried twisting and turning to try to break the leash and finally she opted for heavy panting, for five hours. We, the responsible party for her misery, behaved like any parent… ignoring the whole situation except preventing her from hanging herself. And like any parent we graciously stopped every two hours for all of us to pee. It took about a quart of water to quench her thirst from all the panting.

Stopping to spend the night at my friend in Connecticut, I know she has told me she has a cat  tolerant of dogs. “We shall see how it goes.” was her last comment on the phone. She failed to remind me that her cat is a Maine Coon cat and weighs in at 22 pounds, three pounds under Olive. We arrive at her doorstep, (Olive is on a short leash), open the door and find the CAT at the door greeting us. It is hard to imagine a long- haired cat who could make its hair stand straight up in a Mohawk. Nose to nose they met with a fair amount of hissing. Olive had the good sense to back away and that was that until we left.

Ready to take on the next leg of the trip to Gettysburg to visit my nursery school buddy and his wife, I informed Olive this was my friend who was my first love and first kiss, so she should show some respect and behave. (I forgot to mention that she left a small present on the floor of my CT. friend who I hope is still speaking to me.)

Chet has had, and still has, a large very male boxer. He decided Barney should visit the kennel during Olive’s visit. What? Olive won’t get her first kiss from Barney, like I did from Chet! Yet, once I got a good look at Barney, who by the way could try out for the Chip n Dale dogs, I was thankful my Olive would remain pure.

Aren’t we the perfect house guests, we bring our dog, kick out their dog, and then have our dog sit on their sofa like she has lived there all her life. Yep, that was Olive. Fortunately, she does not shed, and Barney does so their house was not perfect.

Chet and Sally live near the Peace Light, so I thought I would take Olive and introduce her to some history of the Battle of Gettysburg. We walked up the road to the Peace Light and I told her stories about how this was a favorite “parking” spot for first dates or second dates where an innocent kiss could be given. Olive wanted nothing to do with this information. I then walked her down Doubleday Avenue and explained to her how I lost control of my bike on the little road below the tower and ended up on the railroad tracks with a busted bike and many scrapes. Again, this did not seem to interest her. Instead of staying on the road I cut across the field where the Confederates lost 900 men to the Union troops on the first day battle. Olive was not interested in that history lesson either, but instead ran ahead of me right into a lovely fresh pile of manure they had spread on the fields. Back to Chet’s where me, lovely house guest that I am, take over the sink to wash my stinking dog. I can hear Chet muttering under his breath,

”Thank God, I never got married to her.”

Day Four, Chet, Sally and Barney are waving good-bye to us with huge smiles and that look of relief we are gone. Olive is now strapped into her seat with two carabiners (bought at the gun shop with a “Don’t Blame Me I Voted for Trump sign”) and no short leash to strangle herself. This seems much better, but the panting continues. We have arrived at Greyson State Park in an amazing camp site where Olive is happily sniffing the new smells and looking for a day of hiking and seeing the wild ponies.

We can only say, we have the best friends in the world and we love them. They can bring their pets anytime and Olive can go visit the kennel. No way am I having that gorgeous Chip n’ Dale stud dog loving up to my Olive.