New car + new dog = disaster

As some of you may know, I bought a new car last month. It's a shiny red Volvo s40, and I'm doing my best to keep it shiny and new for as long as possible. You may also know that we recently got a new dog, a goofy, slobbery bundle of love who squirms and wiggles with glee when you pay him the slightest bit of attention. So I took him with me this morning to run some errands, and he was happy as a clam on a towel on the back seat as I went to the bank and to the UPS Store to ship my dad's toiletries case, which he inexplicably forgot at our house (the Stanimal never forgets!). So we're bopping along Forest Lane, Buster panting and grinning and taking in everything whizzing by. Cars are the Most! Fun! Ever!

And then he barfed. Buster barfed in my new car, on the leather, right where the towel ended. Buster yakked up his entire breakfast, slimy half-digested kibble dribbling down the side of the backseat. And then he started to eat it. So there I am, steering with my left hand while frantically grabbing for my dog's collar with my right hand, screaming, "No!" as I try to prevent him from gobbling up his own vomit. I pulled into an Exxon station and cleaned it up with Kleenex as best I could while Buster gazed at me mournfully from the other end of the seat. Not fun, I tell you. Not fun at ALL.