I s’pose the real reason for the training stuff isn’t my bad manners. Although they leave a bit to be desired.
It’s my car thing.
I’ve always had a hang-up about cars and trucks. Also riding lawn mowers. Go-karts. Anything with four wheels, an engine, and a driver.
Don’t like ’em. Don’t want to ride in ’em. Don’t want anything to do with ’em.
Those copilot dogs with their heads hanging out the window, flying their drool flags? Boneheads.
First of all, it ain’t safe. And second of all, bad stuff can happen after you climb into a car.
Take it from me.
When Julia and George and Sara realized I have transportation issues, they tried to lure me into the back seat of their car with treats.
But you’d be surprised how stubborn I can be.
I yelped so loud, the neighbors came running out to see what was happening to the poor little doggie.
Score one for the poor little doggie.