Dogs don’t care where you’re going nearly as much as they care that they’re going with you.
I can load mine into the truck to go to the post office, run an errand, or head out on an actual adventure, and the enthusiasm is pretty much the same.
If the windows are down, their noses are busy downloading all the smells, and they’re with their person…best damn day ever
Milo also likes to bark at dogs who are on their own property, minding their own business. He considers the entire route his jurisdiction. 
And Mikey knows Polar Express. The second the girls ask if I want pup cups, he launches himself toward the drive-thru window, and I have to catch him like a furry little torpedo before he enters with no shirt, no shoes, and demands service.
There is one exception to their love of a good ride.
They’ve figured out that when I only take one or two of them, there’s a decent chance the destination is the groomer or the vet. So I started taking them all along just to ease their nerves.
It works right up until we pull into the parking lot.
“What is this treachery?! We have been deceived!”
No one wants to volunteer to be the tribute in the the vet or groomer version of “The Hunger Games.”
But most of the time, they don’t care about the destination. They’re too busy enjoying the ride.
We should learn something from that. We spend a lot of time looking ahead to the next weekend, vacation, milestone, or goal, thinking about where we’re trying to get instead of paying attention to where we are.
Dogs are busy with their noses out the window, taking it all in. Every smell is worth investigating. Every person walking down the sidewalk deserves a look. Every dog in a yard is breaking news. They aren’t wondering how much longer it’ll take to get there or what they’re going to do when they arrive. They’re completely interested in what’s happening right now.
That’s the part we could borrow from them.
How much of our own ride do we miss because we’re already thinking about the destination? We’re waiting for Friday, summer, vacation, retirement, the kids to come home, the project to be finished, the number on the scale to change, or whatever the next “there” happens to be.
Meanwhile, there’s all this scenery and life going by too fast.
Perhaps we need to take a lesson from the Lollipop Guild and Jojo and not always be so focused on the destination that we miss the ride.
Anyway—Off We Go. 
Not pictured: Teddy was riding shotgun, enjoying his seat cooler. He just wants to go where I go, and his old legs can’t handle looking out the window anymore. 
