How to Torture a Shiba- Part Deux

As is well known to my readers, I enjoy riding in the car. I am not a "stick my head out the window with my tongue flapping in the wind" car dog, but rather I enjoy sitting in the back seat, being chauffuered around, and finding new and interesting spots to pee when we stop. I look forward to The Woman running errands with feigned interest but it is an important part of my lifestyle and responsibilities.

Our household is a two car household. The first car is The Women's car. It is a small Chevy Aveo hatchback, the same color as me (of course), that can hold one Shiba, several bags of groceries (including whatever is needed for afternoon cocktail hour and barbacue), a few shrubberies, one trip to the Salvation Army, and a few yard sale scores assumed during the course of a Saturday afternoon cruise. The Woman, being of small statuture, loves this little Aveo. I wish it had air conditioning in the backseats.

The second car of our household is That Guy's car. It is a 2000 Red Mustang. He uses it to get back and forth to work, and this is the car that we travel in to take long trips. The back seat is very comfortable. I can stretch out as we drive to our destination. I never have to share this back seat with shubberies.

Mustangs are Real Men's cars. That Guy is a Real Man. So am I. We relate on the level of the importance of owning and riding in a non-practical car for an environment that can have any kind of weather over the course of an hour and be undrivable for half a year. It's all about style and look.

And I make that Mustang look good.

So lately, That Guy has been going to work early because he has to be working with people across the Ocean (which involves waking me up early so then I get The Woman up- who is seldom amused- but the day has started **chop** chop** everyone!) But because he has been going to the office early, he has been coming home early.

And this leads me to the Shiba Torture #2.

Early this week, That Guy came home right as The Woman and I were getting ready to leave errands. He pulled into the garage right as we were exiting. So we stop to say hi, they exchange those silly human pleasantries and I see that we are right next to the Mustang! This means that we are going on a nice trip somewhere so that I can see new sites and claim new country in the Name of All that is Mine.

But noooooooooooo.

That Guy gets out of the Mustang, The Woman drags me away even as I attempt to squeeze myself into the back seat, and I am thrown into the small Chevy Aveo only to be surrounded by groceries, unessential shopping bags, and whatever else distracts her for that day.

I really tried to get into The Mustang. It was there. The door was open. It was an obvious invitation. We should be going someplace fun! My disappointment was unimaginable when the doors were shut and I was dragged off to the lesser of the two vehicles.

Don't tempt me with the Greater of Two Treats and then Force Me to Take the Lesser. It's just not fair!



I Am Shiba. I Deserve a Roadtrip.