Picture this—a low-slung convertible that equates to sex on wheels is being driven down a scenic highway. The driver is wearing Ray-Bans, a smile, and an “I love my life†smile. Riding shotgun in the passenger seat is a dog. Maybe a dog wearing a scarf, or bandana, or even goggles…which I think should be called doggles… or maybe the dog is naked except for a collar and a pink tongue flapping in the wind. Do you have the picture in your mind? If so, what breed of dog do you see in the passenger seat?
Earlier this week on the Today show there was a brief discussion about what type of dog looks good in a convertible.  That got me thinking about my biases.  Although small breed dogs are super cute, you’d almost need a booster seat to get the dog high enough to see the world, and that’s part of the fun, right?
Super-sized dogs like St. Bernard’s, Great Danes, and Newfoundland’s make a super-sized statement, but somehow seem out of proportion in my mind’s view (unless you were in a convertible Hummer). And then there’s the Siberian husky.
As a person happy to share life with a husky, my first thought was, “Oh yeahhhhhhhh.†Our dog, Booker, loves to feel the wind in his face. He’s got Paul Newman-esque blue eyes, and wolfish good looks. He’s big enough to sit in a car’s seat without engulfing it, but small enough to fit. However, there is one problem…the endless shedding of hair.*
Last week my husband insisted on bringing Booker with us to the local farmer’s market. “Why?†I asked. The farmers market sits on asphalt that’s hellishly hot on summer days, and I wondered if it would hurt his paws.  Booker would also need to be on a short leash to prevent any, um, “marking†on venders goods.
“To socialize him,†said my husband.  mmmmhhmmm.
We loaded Booker in the vehicle and opened the windows. Booker stuck his nose out and began to wag his tail with the beat of the tires on the road. Within seconds a blizzard of hair engulfed me.
“Ack! Pfft. This is SO much fun,†I said while waving my hands to fend off the onslaught. My husband reached behind  and gave Booker a scratch. More hair pelleted me.
When we arrived at the farmer’s market I made a beeline for a particular vender who gives me great deals on farm fresh tomatoes.  My husband and Booker took a seat at a picnic table and waited. All by themselves. So much for socialization.
As my tomatoes were getting bagged I looked over at the two of them. My husband, people-watching, mindlessly petted Booker, which released more hair. Unfortunately the wind took the tufts, in a wicked ballet dance, straight at a taco stand.  I hurried my tomato purchase. We loaded Booker back in the vehicle, rolled the windows down, and once again experienced life as dog-hair-in-a-blender.
Reconsidering a husky as the perfect convertible dog? The best part of my day!  What would be your pick for a convertible dog?
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