Dog Is My Copilot

I realize a lot of the material on this blog is about my dog. I know it might be painful, boring, tedious, whatever to read about our little mishaps over and over again. But you have to understand that I spend more time with the dog than I do with anyone else. And the TLF isn't exactly the best breeding ground for friendship with people coming and going all the time. I promise you that I have actual, human friends. I'm actually going to see some of them this weekend. (!) Anyway, I digress.

Today's story is, yes, about another doggie mishap. Mike and I were out running some errands, and we were on our way back to Kirtland driving on the highway. I think we were in the middle lane. To our right there were two cars who had just merged onto the highway, and car number two seemed to be angry that the guy in front of him wasn't going fast enough. Car number two, in a fit of frustration, quickly changes lanes and almost hits us, causing Mike to slam on the brakes and lay on the horn.

Now before I go any further, let it be known that we have a metal dog-divider gate thing which confines Crockett to the back hatch of my car, thus making car travel safe for both man and beast. Well, this seemed like a great investment until Mike had to slam on the brakes.

The gate came crashing down, pinning poor Crockett to the ground in the back of my car. We couldn't hear him moving, so our worst fear was that the metal feet of the divider had impaled him somehow. We were saying things like, "Its okay buddy" and "We're going to come get you" in soothing tones, and when I started to laugh at the pure absurdity of our scenario, Mike turned to face me and calmly said, "Don't laugh at him!"

We pulled off the highway and Mike pulled over, turned on the emergency lights, and came to a stop underneath the interstate (in retrospect, probably not the safest place to pull over in the ABQ) and I hopped out in order to free Crockett from his safety gate prison. As soon as I opened the hatch, Crockett slithered out from beneath the metal, jumped out, and luckily I was able to grab him before he could run into oncoming traffic.

Once everything was under control, Mike turned to me and asked, "Do you think God does these things to Crockett knowing he'll survive? Do you think God is smiling down right now knowing we avoided another dog disaster and that we're laughing about it?" I don't know the answer to those questions, but I like to think so.

Poor traumatized, anti-depressant taking, vet bill inducing Crockett. We love him so much!