Whiskey has always been a pretty good traveler. Lately, though, he’s been restless if he’s not a little worn out when we leave (if we go straight from breakfast to the truck, instead of giving him some time to play, for example). I think we might have gotten a little carried away with these trips, though.
And there was the day we were in Dad’s truck (he has a bench seat, instead of having a half seat in the back like I do). Whiskey was a traitor and hung out on Dad’s side of the truck instead of sitting with me. Dad thought that was pretty funny.