Thursday, January 12, 2012

Driving Miss Pocket (and Aunt Foley too)

After years of begging and pleading I have finally received what I have asked for my whole life. No, not a live, pre-plucked chicken, but my own seat for the car.



It is a vision of beauty. It is a little box with a strap that hooks to the head rest in the back seat. It has Sherpa on the inside which is very nice to lie upon and keeps my butt warm. And it is high in the air so I can see out the front window, the back, and the sides too. It is like the Pope mobile.

I ride in it like a Queen, looking out the window and nodding to my peeps. I can also look out the front window and confirm what Mommy has said for years: Daddy is a terrible driver.

I got mine on a Friday. When we went to the spa on Saturday it was installed for me. Pocket didn’t have one yet (there was only one at the store) so she sat on Mommy’s lap, or more accurately, squirmed on Mommy’s lap.

After our spa treatment there was now a seat for Pocket too, just as high, but, in my opinion, not as comfortable. Daddy put us in our seats, hooked us in, and we headed for home.



Then Pocket jumped out. She didn’t get far. She ended up hanging off the seat like a baby strapped to a Mom’s torso (albeit with one with a single boxy boob.) Daddy had to pull over and put Pocket back in her seat. Daddy put her back in the seat. He tightened the strap to keep her from jumping out and we started of again.

And silly Pocket jumped out again. Bouncing off the side of the seat like a parachutist stuck in a tree. I had no patience with her. Does the Pope jump out of the Pope mobile? Does Batman jump out of the Bat mobile? No, they know a good thing when they see it but there’s Pocket swinging like an old woman’s pantaloons on the clothes line during a wind storm.

Daddy parked the car again. He tried to shorten strap on the seat but regardless of what he did it got longer. He put Pocket back inside and told her to stay. Pocket, she no knows what that word means. But she also doesn’t like hanging by a strap in a moving vehicle. So she stayed put, except for an occasional tremble.

Now Daddy says if he is taking Mommy somewhere but not going in with her, then we can go with him, and have more peeps tell us how cute we are. I am working on getting Pocket to sit in her seat and enjoy the ride, but she’s never happy unless she is in contact with a human so it might take her awhile to just sit down and enjoy her ride.

And, for more good news, we got new harnesses.

These are so nice. The front of them is soft and looks like a bandanna. The straps are thick so they hang off of us comfortably but we can’t slip out of them. Even though I am slightly smaller than Pocket I had a medium while she has a small. I am a medium because I have girth. I am not sure what girth is but I keep getting e-mails from a former DS member’s Mom which says that girth is quite important, and there are pills to enhance girth, so I am quite proud of my girth. I am positively girthy.



So Pocket and I are riding into 2012, styling and profiling. Catch us if you can.

2 comments:

  1. I am with Pocket. I like laps. Creatures of habit, but I guess we can learn. SIGH

    The Sherpa one looks comfy.

    You two are always stylin! That's why I stop by!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Foley, had it not been for us being in our car seats all clipped in and OCD momma also has a safety hammock under the car seats... we would have been toast when that &*%^&^##!@ZXC hit us at 75mph and then took off sending us spinning in circles on a very busy freeway. We literally spun 4 complete revolutions on a very busy freeway in rush hour traffic and ended up facing the traffic in the opposite sense creating a five mile back up. BUT we were safe. Momma was a bit shaken...[understatement] but she held it together...sort of. Please get Pocket used to her car seat. At her body weight she would be a flint flying through glass. And we want her around for a long long time.

    ReplyDelete

Beat this caption

  Walter Had been taught since he was a young pup that it was rude not to leave a little something under a Christmas tree