How we almost died. In Technicolor!

Now, let me first preface this by saying: this story is only amusing because no one actually died. In truth, this was very scary but really, at this point, all I can do is laugh and share my tale as a precautionary one.

And find a crate that can fit in my car. You'll See.

***

Ahem.

Once upon a time (last night) I was driving to our ring rental time (45 minutes from home. During rush hour. By way of the major transit routes.)

I always bring The Pup, because though she can’t really do much, she can sit and bark and seems to have fun.  The last time I went to the ring rental was a few weeks ago. Since then, The Pup has grown. A lot. So much so, that I didn’t think it was ‘humane’ to stuff her in the Sherpa bag for the car ride anymore. So instead, I decide to strap her into the back seat with a vehicle restraint device. I’ve used doggie seat belts for a long time. Used them for Banchor. No issue. Use them for The Dog. No issue. So I thought, hey, I will get one for The Pup and she can be safe ‘loose’ in the back with The Dog, yet cleverly strapped in just in case I had to break or something.

This device was a bit different. Had some more ‘wiggle room’ than other ones I have used. I thought, meh, as long as she can’t get up front, its fine. (This is the key phrase here, folks.)

So off we went.  All is well. Dogs lying down in back, me in the front singing Ke$ha songs to The Dog.

Approximately 5 minutes away from home, The Pup realizes that she is not actually loose, but is, in fact, restrained by a THING.

Naturally, she attacks the THING.

And protests its overall usage. At the top of her lungs. While systematically trying to eat it.

But it does the job. She is still in the thing as we head onto the highway.

At this point, The Dog has adopted a withering glare that she keeps throwing my way. She is seriously annoyed by The Pup’s struggle for freedom. I apologize and get up to speed with traffic, still singing.

After a few minutes all is quiet in the backseat. I believed this to mean The Pup gave up. Ha. Hahahaha. I seriously underestimated the will of a Border/Staffy.

The next few things happened very quickly.

I hear scratching next to me, between the door and my seat. I take a glance. The Pup is clawing her way up front, using her big fat baseball head as an anchor against my seat to pull herself along.  She is doing this successfully, despite the fact that she is still in the ‘restraints’ and the restraints are clipped to the seat belt in back.

The Dog is on my other side. Spurred on by The Pup’s idea of visiting Up Front, she starts tentatively stepping on the consol.

I yell.

I note that I am driving into a merge area of traffic, which happens to also be a bridge.

Before I can do anything, she has popped herself through the gap between the seat and door, and is twisting herself sideways. There is no forcing her back again. She suddenly becomes alarmed and realizes she is stuck and being pulled at by the belt in back.

Once alarmed, she decides that the best thing to do will be to turn to me for help. She claws her way across my chest and launches herself ONTO MY FACE. In doing this (in an inexplicable shower of puppy kisses, BTW), she also dislodges my glasses, temporarily blinding me.

I further note that the last thing I am seeing is the guardrail rearing up on my left (hiding a scary cliff down to a busy highway), and a Suburban on my right.

Bird's Eye View of Mayhem.

Then, literally seeing nothing but a spotted tummy, I hold my wheel straight (I thought. After hearing some swift honking I assume the dude next to me wet his pants a bit. Might have cut that a little close.), and break as much as possible, knowing that there is traffic everywhere, to gain control and time. I manage to (again, blindly) unclip The Pup from the harness, and she drops to my lap.

We are somehow, still on the road.

We were still alive.

And I was ready to kill The Pup.

But wouldn’t you know, having won, she fell right to sleep on my lap.

Sigh.

Epilogue:

On the way home, The Pup was shoved into the Sherpa bag like stuffing into a Thanksgiving Day turkey.

The Dog is still nursing a grudge at not getting to go Up Front.

The End