fuzzi
Loving the herd life
What is a flybag?Orher than warning light for engine continually blinking, and an alarming looking trianle with a car in it followed by bacon warning me there was no traction the drive was fairly uneventful. We stopped at the 30 mile mark, then the 3 hr mark, another 3 hour mark at a rest stop, all at Boone’s request. He handled it well, spending most of the time in his crate, occasional putting his front end on the console to see where we were going. At each stop, we took relief, and Boone enjoyed a 5-10 minute sniffari to help him stay relaxed, and we would continue on. The vehicle was running rough when idling the entire trip. Halfway down I-80 just as we left the last rest stop, we got caught up in a snarl of about 200 cars fully stopped on highway due to a bad accident. They closed the road and we were there for an hour and a half. I needed ear buds to hear the driving directions because my hearing is so poor, I can hear the phone or radio speaking but can’t make out the words. I was worried the batteries on them would go dead, so used them sparingly until the last hour of driving. That made it a little stressful for me once we got into the Folsom area with lots of traffic. I’m not used to being in. My GPS went haywire and was taking me to weird places with dead end roads. El Dorado has a distressing lack of street signs, the ‘burb was grinding everytime I turned a corner, ran rougher than ever and felt like the whole undercarriage was going to fall off. Boone was stoic, but by the time I arrived at my cousin’s house I was vibrating like a hummingbird and could have used a stiff drink, a valium or a joint (no, I don’t, but I could have, I was that bad) I had to settle for water.
While exploring the small backyard in their mobile home park, their elderly muzzle wearing, Jack Russell attempted to decapitate Boone , who was thrilled at the possibility of playing (but of course was disappointed as Cole is now spending our visit in solitary confinement in the master bedroom) and Boone discovered what a stinky flybag is. He came around the corner with what looked like mud in his front legs, neck and chest. He reeked. They thought is was pig poop. Nope. Flybag. So Boone got the first bath of his life at 11 mo old, under protest, after an 11 hour long 7 hour drive.
I’m grateful, so very grateful the day is over
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