Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Bro-cation, pt 1

First, let me just preface this by saying two things:

1). Someone told Hopper that a vacation you take with your brother is a "bro-cation." So guess which word I've had to hear 20-30 times an hour for the last 5 1/2 hours? 
2). I know that my dog gets car sick. It is well-established. I did, in fact, attempt to prepare for the inevitability. I did. 

The boys and I left Austin this afternoon  on our way to Arkansas to spend Thanksgiving with family. I had taken the day off so I could take my time packing the care while they were at school. I even gave the dog a bath before we left, which should have been my first omen. 
Now, knowing that Possum gets carsick, I didn't feed her and I gave her some Dramamine at least a half hour before I left to go pick up the boys. I took my doggie expert friend's advice and put her in a crate with the sides covered so she couldn't see out the windows. I even packed paper towels and some spare bath towels, just in case. 
She horfs before  I even got out of our neighborhood. And then before I got to Hop's school which is seven miles from the house. While she was at it, she decided to mix things up and throw up one more time while the car was stationary in the parking lot at Rowan's preschool. We had not even cleared downtown Austin and this dog had already gone through 1/2 my paper towels. But, I was ever hopeful that maybe since she had already horfed SO much, her tum might be empty? Please? Dear Lord in Heaven? 
It seemed like we might have a bit of a reprieve and we were making ok time. And then. Sigh. And then  there was a wreck and the traffic just came to a standstill. There was nothing but tail lights as far as I could see. Just one of those things where you know you're going to be stuck there for an hour, not moving on the freeway. It was then I heard the strangled gurgling sound, a hooooooooof, and then both boys yelled simultaneously, "MOOOO-oooom, POSSUM PUUUUUUUKKKKED." Any previous hope I had held that she might be out of things to projectile vomit died. Let me explain that Possum is a cockapoo. She weighs 19lbs. What came out of this dog was like, a half ton of...something. I can't even possibly conceive where or how she could produce this much... STUFF out of her body.  I don't want to think about it anymore because this precise moment that she decided to unleash this Fountain of Hell on Earth, was right when we stopped, behind 750,000 other cars, going approximately .5 mph. Stuck, going nowhere for the next 45 minutes. No where to pull off the road and feebly attempt to swab things. No place to get the dog out and hose her off. No opportunity to just evacuate, burn the car and just go with a rental. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere, just me, the boys and our Dog Who Pukes Mountains. 
So yeah, that's how our trip is going so far. It can only go up from here, right? 
She's feeling greeeaaaatt. 

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