Yes! I hear the jangle of car keys! Could it be?
My human asks, “Hey, Luna, wanna go for a ride?” As usual, my tail can’t lie; it can’t keep a secret. I move toward the door, my eager panting giving him an answer to his question. Really, was there any doubt? He opens the driver’s side back door, and I leap right in. As we leave the driveway, he rolls down the passenger side back window just enough for me to get my nose out. He knows what I like.
Slowly we move down the twisty country road. I never get tired of the smells of this place. After a couple of false starts during my puppy days, I finally landed at a perfect forever home: trees, grass, squirrels to chase. More than once I hear the humans declare that this place must be like Dog Heaven. In my doggie mind, they are not wrong.
Having my nose out of the moving car window is a wonderful experience. Although it might appear as if we dogs are smiling when the rushing wind re-shapes our jowls, it’s not quite the same thing as a human smile. It is a singular pleasure, though, and I wish I could share it with those olfactory-challenged bipeds that feed and shelter me. My human has done his research and learned that dogs can smell 10,000 to 100,000 times better than his species. We canines have always been aware of this difference, but we understand it usually takes humans time to catch up.
Now we are on a fast road and I settle down on the back seat. I am still aware of the myriad smells and sounds out there. Having the window open even a little is enough. We are getting into more traffic, more noise, more human-made smells. This means we are probably going to park and he will leave me in the car. And we do just that. I watch him as he walks across the parking lot and enters the first building.
It is time for me to lay down and wait. I am not crazy about being alone without him. At first, I sit on my haunches and watch, zeroing in on the door into which he disappeared. I have relax a bit since those early days when we were together. Still, when I hear the car unlock, my tail starts wagging and I sit up in eager anticipation.
He gets in and we move on to our next stop. Maybe it will be one of those drive-through window places. Those are nice because he doesn’t have to get out and leave me, and often the humans with whom he is doing business see me and offer a treat for me. That’s nice. I’ve noticed the humans who drive delivery trucks sometimes will offer treats, as well. I am sure they love dogs (who doesn’t?) but it’s probably a smart tactic to disarm (Dis-paw? De-fang?) any strange dogs they encounter on their routes.
We stop again and my human leaves the car. It is a pleasant spring outside. The windows are open a bit, of course. He always makes sure I have ample access to fresh air. (If it were a hot summer day, I wouldn’t be in the car with him.) We are at a store he sometimes shops where he buys things in bulk. He disappears for a while and eventually, he wheels a big cart loaded with stuff he and the other human at the house think they need. I am interested in one bag in particular because I can smell some treats inside. I suspect they are for me. He knows what I like.
We ride on some really fast roads without stops, then slower roads and eventually, my dog sense tells me we are within just a few miles of our home. I sit up and pay attention. He wonders how I know. Maybe someday he’ll find out.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
