Last night, Eric took Denny down to his breeders where he stays quite happily when we go on the road. Usually, I go with him on these trips, the goal being for me to hold on to the dog and take evasive action when car sickness threatens.
Now, just so you all know, I have tried transporting him in a crate. I have tried the backseat and front seat harnesses. It only makes it worse. He gets motion sick so easily, and though I was assured it was a puppy thing, he never grew out of it. So now, he sits in my lap, or lies down if he gets relaxed enough, and I lock my arms around him.
I always carry paper towels, plastic grocery bags and febreze. Denny is really embarrassed by the whole thing to and does his best to cooperate...to the point that when he starts to heave and I open the plastic bag, he sticks his head right in with perfect aim.
But there have been a few times when he hasn't made it into the bag, or we didn't have the other person there to help. And let me tell you, those times are EPIC.
First come the warning signs - the salivation, the licking of the chops, the woebegone look, the grimace...and then the full-body heaves, just to make sure he has your attention. Then...the eruption. Thar he blows. Bits flying everywhere. Nothing escapes. Dashboard, windows, gear shift, upholstery, floor mats, seatbelts, windows, door handles. Me. Eric.
I've had to strip down to my skivvies in the middle of the street, ball up my clothes, and make a mad dash into my building to avoid dripping. I once tried to put his head out the window when were were racing down the higway and couldn't pull over (it's a bad idea...I forgot about the blowback).
All the while, Denny plays up the martyrdom. His sick is your fault, and don't you forget it.
So for anyone who has suffered with their car sick B, this post is for you.