An Adventurous Ride Home

So, on May 15 we all hopped into the car and drove 1.5 hours to Three Springs, PA (in the middle of nowhere...and you know if I say that, it really is). About 2 miles away I started getting super cranky. It only got worse as we pulled into the place. We both will admit we were turned off by the whole "breeder scenario;" with lots of dogs with lots of puppies in large fenced kennels. It was hot and loud in the metal building and Julsie and I spent the next 1/2 hour waiting outside.
We finally are ready to take her home and John decides she will not fit into the small kennel we brought to hold her while in the car. [At this point, I already wanted nothing to do with her - still feeling like I was cheating on Si and dreading more responsibilities in my life.] Then John says, "you're going to have to hold her." "An hour and a half? " I say. Now, I don't know why I didn't offer to drive because right then and there I knew with everything in me, "She's going to pee on me. I know it. She's going to pee on me." ..... I was wrong.

She was super calm just lying in my arms for the first 45 minutes; just a little angel. She starts loosening up (I think) and starts exploring around the car. Next, she is almost frantically moving around the car. John mentions that she probably needs to pee and I say, "I just smelled her toot." "You did?" "I did." And then it happened, 1, 2, 3 small explosions directly in my lap ... all over my shirt, my pants, my seatbelt. John whips the car off the side of the road, comes to my door, gets her and takes her in the grass. Calmly, I get out, carefully take my shirt off, roll it in a ball and toss it over the side of the hill. On the side of the turnpike, in my bra and jeans, I begin to clean myself and my seat with my ever-present cache of baby wipes. When a passing truck stops to check on me, John realizes my state-of-attire and gives me his shirt. As we pull in to pay our toll with a shirt-less John, two babies in the back seat, me holding a loose puppy and the lovely aroma of baby wipes mingled with "eau d' doo-doo" we can only imagine the thoughts of the toll booth operator.