I have pearls of wisdom for anyone planning on traveling with dogs: DON'T! Just kidding. Actually we are on the road with Co (pronounced "Cho") the chihuahua and Kelly the geezer (she is 15). The trip started well enough. We delivered unto the local vet Sapa, Gina (aka the flying squirrel) and Mac (aka doodle) Monday morning. Mac promptly started growling at the dog in the adjacent kennel while Gina jumped around and around seemingly intent on flying...anywhere. Sapa seemed enthusiastic to take a break from we heinous humans but then decided she would much rather NOT be in a kennel and commenced howling and crying to be loosed from her prison cell. It was, needless to say, a most auspicious start to the trip.

About three miles into the trip, Co decided he would be frightened and began shaking in earnest like he was having some sort of seizure. Within minutes, Kelly had joined in the dramatic presentation worthy of an Oscar by not only shaking, but drooling as well, thereby completing the seizure dog portion of the presentation. This may make some of you want to call PETA and report us, but realize that both dogs have been on numerous trips before. We ruled this a blatant treat scam and sham designed to sucker us into ...something doggie but definitely related to giving each an extra treat.

But we remained strong and moved ever forward into the wilderness of the road. Once the daring duo had realized no extra treat or human morsel was forthcoming, they settled in for a bit. But within a hundred miles, Kelly decided she had forgotten how to turn around in her bed to lay on the other side. She stood, teetered into the seat, then huffed, making us both turn around to see what the hell was going on in the back seat. It was then that Co chose to imitate the flying squirrel antics of Gina and launched himself - rat in space - from Mel's lap into the back seat, startling Kelly so badly I was certain she was about to suffer some dramatic medical episode. Between the exertion and mental exercise of turning around, Kelly soon fell asleep while vaguely growling at Co who stared at Mel and myself like we were idiots which, at this point, I was beginning to think might be a valid assessment.

All seemed well until Kelly awakened at the next rest area. I opened the door near her so I could lift her out of the car and she, being an award-winning actress, flopped over as if she lacked any skeletal structure whatsoever. She had morphed into potato sack dog before our very eyes, er, ok, so we didn't actually see the transformation, it was clear the dog now completely lacked a skeletal structure.

This led to the new adventure of hoisting her up to sitting to lift her out of the car...it took 20 minutes. Meantime, Co has wandered off into fields of clover and peed on Mel's shoes to mark them. Nice. I converted to the firm belief that these, in fact, were not our beloved dogs, but alien or demonic substitutes for the little lovie-fuzzies we so adore.

Eventually, they settled into pouting over receiving their dog food and no human food; receiving their usual ration of dog bones; and pretty much sleeping most of the time. Most notably, however, in extremis, Co actually meowed like a cat. Swear to God - the dog meowed. Huffing, meowing, lovely canine limpness cum sack of potatoes...this is going to be a GREAT trip.