Tales from the back of a very large van. Part 1.

And… we’re back. Swimming in the contents spewed from the van, but home. Looking forward to a day at home to clean up said van spewage.

We were somewhere in Iowa at a rest area about 1/3 of the way home when we nearly lost Brady. The kids opened the van door before I got around to that side, and we all got out, went inside to use the bathroom, and headed back out. I hollered for the dog to take her to do her own business, and she didn’t come. Strange. I was about to give up and assume she was buried in luggage, knowing she’d been in there moments earlier, when a man nearby heard me calling her and asked if Brady was a dog.

Uh, yes. She’s small. Black. Highly annoying at moments like these. The man said a lady had found her, thought she was abandoned, and he was pretty sure the lady left with the dog.

Annoyed, meet panicked. So the dog drives me nuts. She’s naughtier than most of my children, but she’s pretty sweet too. Talk about ruining a vacation.

Turns out, the lady was about to pull out. She sheepishly handed over my now-sheepish dog, who cowered in the corner nowhere near the van doors the rest of the trip. It would seem she might have realized her error.

Until we drove in the yard and had to promptly holler at her for heading to the road.

Back to annoying. Dumb dog.