What happens when a road trip lands two kids and a puppy in the back seat of a small SUV? Questions like:
“Can you tell Greta to stop licking my face?”
“Is Adam supposed to be touching Greta where she poops?”
“Mom! Can you move Greta’s rump out of my face?”
In other words, enough chaos to relocate our Dobie to the third row of the car on the trip home. Poor Greta just wanted to look out the window and our two kids were just collateral damage. One rest stop, two bones, and three hours later we were to our destination, but not without a car full of dog hair, slobber all over our boys’ heads, and a few barks that made my husband swerve toward the nearest exit.