There is nothing I like better than the “G” word, “Go?”. Dad tries to avoid saying it, as the immediate pandemonium it invokes is not for the faint of heart, but even him spelling it causes Max and I to lose control of our faculties.
What is this canine fascination with going mobile? Some hypothesize that it’s because that dogs are always excited about going somewhere new, an idea that I totally get, as everyone knows, I’m all about the travel. But Max disagrees; he can detect the sound of dad’s car arriving long before it actually comes down the street, and will be waiting at the bottom of the hill. Even though he knows that the ride will be brief, less than fifteen yards, and always arrives at the same destination, the Casa, this excites him as much as a trip to Colorado.
There’s the whole “hanging my head out of the window” thing. It’s the canine equivalent to speed reading, or channel surfing; LOTS of information to be assimilated, but I’m only good up to 55 MPH, then I go into information overload. much like “drinking from a fire hose”. It’s advantageous that Miss Ellie is usually the chariot of choice these days, as this is the speed where she is most comfortable rumbling along. Although the old Subie is fully capable of exceeding 70, she let’s dad know that she’s only cooperating under extreme protest.
Then there’s the motorcycles. Icarus, the Honda 919, provokes little response when dad fires him up, as his voice is a bit too refined for my taste, but the yellow bike? That’s a different story. Jehu is a modded out Suzuki DR650, named after the Old Testament chariot driver mentioned in the book of Kings: “and the driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he driveth furiously.” Jehu’s story is a bit like mine, as he and dad initially met in a pawn shop. It was dad’s intent to clean up the old bike and resell him, but the crochety old goat found his own voice and convinced dad to let him stay. After adventures too numerous to recount, here he remains today.
All can be peacefull and quiet at the Garage de la Casa, then dad will turn the key on Jehu. All it takes is the almost imperceptible whirring of Jehu’s LED headlight fan to launch me into paroxysms of joy, and I will NOT be denied until we put him though his paces. For some reason, the 55 MPH rule doesn’t apply to the bike, the air must be thoroughly tasted, snuffled, ingested, and savored; first on one side, then the other, then back again ad infinitum, until dad shouts over the blast of the wind, “DANG IT, CHARLIE! PICK ONE SIDE OR THE OTHER!”. I obviously ignore these instructions, as A: I’m the Charlie, and B: he will have to stop the bike to enforce discipline, and dad has the attention span of a caffienated squirrel. By the time he finds a suitable place to pull over, something else will have seized his miniscule attention, and he will have forgotten his original intent.
So whe are we dogs so fixated on “going”? My belief is that it’s because, above all else, we want to be with you, and the car/truck/motorcycle affords us the best opportunity to accomplish this. Think about it; road trips offer the greatest opportunity for bonding: confined space, great tunes, truck stop jerky and plenty of time for conversation.
It just doesn’t get any better; see you on the road!
What a SMILE!!
“Caffeinated squirrel” ! Love this post this morning! It’s great to start off the day with a laugh! Chark Diem Charlie!
“Caffeinated squirrel ” hilarious!!
Lol our dog learnt ‘Go out’ and ‘Go home’ in two different languages (we’re a bilingual family) plus ‘Go find [insert family member’s name]’. She went crazy whenever we said ‘Go out’ even in her old dotage. Fun times.
I love this story. Of course you haven’t met my dog who goes nuts when she hears the word go. Except when she actually gets in the car and whines and cries the whole time she is in the car. Ok, I guess she does have something in common with Charlie… They both drive us crazy in different ways but kind of the same. Sending love to all at the casa.
The Love of a good dog, where would we be without them.
The very spot!
EEEEE! You have that carrier bolted to the stock rack? Did you have to extend it? Does the handlebar jerk when jumping from side to side? (my old shepard did that in the truck, and the truck rocked!)
That’s why I don’t mount the crate sideways, as it limits her lateral movement. She’s gotten much better at reading my lean, usually looking over my inside shoulder… there’s nothing she likes better.
Did you extend the rack?
Did you extend the rack? Made a, mounting plate?
Love you guys! Mila has her own car – a green Toyota Corolla, or as she is more fondly known as, the C-Rolla (pronounced in a low, vaguely sleezy tone).
The C-Rolla is Mila’s and she knows it. If by some chance I have to drive it and the Missy can’t come then it’s as if her life’s dreams have been crushed forever. So we try to avoid that at all costs!
Just met our biker friends for lunch. And most of our conversation revolved around past trips and experiences. Nothing better than the open road.
Charlie is such a trooper. Instead of reminding her of the pet carrier she was destined to die in, she befriends it as a way to freedom of the road, with the wind beneath her wings(or blowing her ears).
There seems to be not a bad memory left for Charlie at this spot. She’s just happy to be a loved dog out for a bike ride. ❤
Time spent remembering is time spent not partying!
Dad “driveth furiously” ? Oh, my….. 🙂
The little beggars can spell, I also think they are telepathic.
It is amazing how much dogs understand! My Rocky ❤’s to “go” too! Nine hours in the car to Florida, and he just lays happily on a blanket on top of our suitcases in the SUV and watches the world go by. He will go anywhere just as he just gets to come with us!
Next thing Charlie, you and dad will do a charity bike ride. If I wasn’t petrified of going on a bike, despite loving bikes, I would join you.