I knew Nadine wouldn't be able to ride freely in my mom's car for the three-hour drive. No doubt she would pee and poo all over the place and then spend the remaining 2 hours and 59 minutes rolling around in it. The carrier seemed like a great idea. She didn't mind going into the carrier and I had spent all week training her with it. I could get her in and close it up and she was just fine. Until I lifted it. FREAK OUT!!! I didn't matter how I held the carrier, she would wiggle and shake and scratch at the cozy "sheepskin" lining of the floor like Gilman's yellow wallpaper. I tried putting a hand towel inside, thinking she just didn't like the feel of the sheepskin, but no doing. As always, trying to give her treats to do the whole positive-reinforcement thing didn't work. Food just wasn't a motivator for her. I wasn't sure she knew what "good dog" even meant yet.
One thing she did like was having her belly scratched and would ask for it by doing this:
The "scritch my belly" pose, which I also call "Nadine at Mardi Gras." I should get some beads.
I had run out of time to get her any more adjusted to the carrier. The day had come for mom to drive back and Nadine was going in the carrier one way or the other. I thought she would settle down after a few miles and crossed my fingers wouldn't go too nuts in the meantime. She was fine in it while stable, just not when she was carried in it. I forgot that the car might feel like she was being carried. In any case, I loaded her and her plethora of dog necessities into the car and waved goodbye, hoping she wouldn't forget me after three weeks. I know people always say dogs never forget your smell, but I didn't want her to think she was just going to be shuffled about forever. Poor thing's life had been all over the place lately. She was moving to her fifth home in a month. That can't make much sense to a dog. "She's just a dog," I kept telling myself. "Quit worrying like an over-protective mother and start thinking about two weeks in Spain!"
My mom called when they arrived home in Michigan. It had not gone as smoothly as I hoped. Almost immediately she starting scratching at the sheepskin. My mom tried to talk to her and calm her down, but scratch, scratch, scratch she went to escape that wallpaper. As they were driving over the bridge on the skyway tollroad, she looked down at the carrier to see two of Nadine's little paws sticking out of it. Little Houdini (there christened her second nickname) had managed to claw a hole in the mesh window of the carrier and was patiently and rather silently worming her way through it. Being on a tollway meant there was no where to pull over, so my mom put her hand over the hole and did her best to prevent Nadine from ripping the mesh even more. I am sure my mom was never so glad that she had an Ipass for the tollways as she was that day. And my Little Houdini was just beginning her magic show with that trick; she had a few other escape routines yet to demonstrate.
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