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A queezy Turkey Day journey
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___Thanksgiving started off with a run of bad luck this year.
___ Not only was it pouring rain most of the way between Dallas and Austin as we drove Thanksgiving morning, but the dog threw up in the car just north of Hillsboro an
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MARK WINGFIELD
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d then had diarrhea when we finally were able to pull over and stop the car.
___ This was our first trip out of the city with Molly, who normally enjoys driving around town. On those occasions, she sits proudly in the front passenger seat, taking in all the sights with slack-jawed wonder.
___ But on this trip, Molly’s seat was taken by Alison. The boys had gone on to Aunt Frances and Uncle Harold’s house with my parents, who stopped by Dallas Tuesday night on their way from Albuquerque, N.M. That gave Molly complete run of the back seat, but that was not to be her cup of tea.
___She whimpered and whined and acted nervous before we ever got to DeSoto. Soon, she climbed between the bucket seats and landed a place in Alison’s lap.
___ Thank goodness Alison had been reading the morning newspaper. It provided much-needed cover when Molly spewed forth her breakfast.
___ By that point, we knew we desperately needed to find a place to pull over and get the dog out of the car. But we had just hit the snarl of traffic that defines traffic in and around Hillsboro due to never-ending construction on I-35. There was no way to change lanes, much less exit.
___ Finally, we were able to pull off and wheel into the deserted parking lot of a Pizza Hut. There we found a muddy little patch of grass where Molly squatted numerous times to relieve her liquefied bowels as the rain fell all around us--enough symbolism for a Frank Capra movie, no doubt.
___ The image of what happened next will be forever etched in my memory: The beautiful dog that had just been professionally groomed the day before in anticipation of her grand introduction to hordes of extended family sat down on the ground and scooted her bottom across the mud. Not once, but repeatedly.
___ I found the whole scene hysterical. Alison did not.
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___I was not amused. This was not in the plan.
___ The day before Thanksgiving, I took Molly in for her first grooming. Since she was going to meet the relatives, I wanted her to look nice and smell clean and all that good stuff. I even had a c
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ALISON WINGFIELD
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ute fall bandana for her to wear. I’ve given up on the boys, so I thought I could at least do something with the dog.
___ I also decided to dress up a little myself. Mark was nice enough to iron my pants since he was ironing his own. Nothing too fancy, but nice khakis and my cream-colored mock neck with a pretty peach sweater made a nice ensemble. Add to that my new shoes, and we were set.
___ I did think about the fact we might have to let Molly out for a pit stop, and so I remembered to put my tennis shoes in the front seat. Little did I know that there wouldn’t be time to change shoes, so in addition to Molly getting filthy, my shoes and pants also became mud-spattered. At least it covered up the little bit of dog vomit that managed to hit me despite the newspaper I was holding.
___ Once the crisis was over (at least I was praying it was) and we were ready to get back in the car, I discovered my well-organized husband was not that well organized. He had brought only one towel. It’s raining, the dog is muddy, I’m muddy, my new shoes are muddy, and we have one towel. Needless to say, cleaning up the dog pretty much took care of that towel. I had to make do with tissues.
___ The rest of the trip was uneventful, and Molly was content to ride in her kennel and didn’t get sick again.
___ For that we gave thanks.
Mark Wingfield is managing editor of the Standard. Alison Wingfield is a freelance writer. The Wingfields moved to Texas from Louisville, Ky., where Mark had been editor of the Western Recorder, in which this column appeared weekly.
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