Jam, however, was a bit of a drama king.
Because I have Jam and the extra large crate, I bring the car and travel with dog and crate in a car behind the bus. I thought it was going to be an uneventful ride, but it didn't start out that way. We hadn't even made it off campus before I looked at the passenger seat and panicked. Where is his coat? I can't take him anywhere if I don't have his coat?
I know I put it in the car. And I know it was in the passenger seat. Ryan helped me with the crate, perhaps it fell out when we moved it. Crap, the bus is going to get ahead of me. I pull over and start to do my OCD madwoman search for the coat. No coat. CRAP. WHERE IS THE COAT?
Perhaps it fell out literally on the ground in front of the library. So I drive back to the library and look. NO. ARGH!!!!! I could scream. Actually, I do a little foot stomp and some hair pulling, but nothing too dramatic as the guard in the guard shack can see me. Then I see a jacket and pull it out. There, crumpled up with the jacket is his coat. Woot!
The bus is now about 7-9 minutes ahead of me. Poo sticks.
Things remained uneventful until it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have the check for the hotel.
"Michele. Do you have the check for the hotel or do I?" I said into my iPhone. Inside, I know the answer.
"You do."
"No. I don't. It's back in my office. I'll get off at the next exit and go back." Mind you, we are 50 miles into the trip. Jam is sleeping peacefully. I get off at the next exit and start back to Tampa. Michele calls and says we should just charge it and to forget about the check. I get back on the highway towards Orlando. The bus is a good 15 minutes ahead of me. There is no way I am catching up.
This is where usually I make a very bad mapping decision. Where most people would just stay the course and keep on track, I, however, feel the need to fly off the handle and flail about wildly. Generally, this is very amusing to the people around me and someone can say, "Cheryl, that doesn't make sense" and I won't do it. However, all I have is Jam and he is snoring, so instead of staying on 417 like I should have, I decided that my GPS system knew a better way. This is the same GPS system that took me on only surface streets to a place near Orlando because I had inadvertently set some button to not use the highway. Seriously? There's a button that does that? Who wants that button?
I'm a bit like Michael Scott when it comes to GPS systems.
So, after the tollbooth, I don't listen to Michele tell me that it's super easy to get to Panera from 417, I get off 417 and start out on the surface streets. It's 22 miles. Several miles later, it's still 22 miles and I'm confused and I call Michele.
"Where are you? Have you gotten to Panera yet?" I'm still the same distance away from Panera that I was 10 minutes ago. I seem to have gone back in time. I hate Orlando. Michele starts to tell me about how to get to Panera and I don't have the heart to tell her that I am no where near 417. I just agree.
I arrive 20 minutes later. Jam has been popping up and looking out the window and then looking at me accusingly: "Why are we STILL on the road?" It's kind of like the look he is giving me below on the bus.
He didn't seem to mind being on the bus with the kids, but he didn't love it either. He managed the stairs just fine.
He was super with the kids and behaved great all day long. He was great in the bookstore and at lunch.
The problem came when we went to sleep. Jam HATES his travel crate. Jam is the ultimate drama king. So when the time for bed came, he did not want to go into the crate. We got him in, but he started to whine. Then when I went to brush my teeth, he started to bark. Barking and hotel rooms do NOT mix.
What to do? Well, there wasn't much choice at this time. He got to sleep on a tie-down. I waited until he fell asleep (after midnight) because I didn't want him to chew anything. Then when he was asleep, I turned out the lights and went to bed.
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| The MUN team at 5:30 am in front of the bus before we get on the road. Jam and I will follow behind them. |
I know I put it in the car. And I know it was in the passenger seat. Ryan helped me with the crate, perhaps it fell out when we moved it. Crap, the bus is going to get ahead of me. I pull over and start to do my OCD madwoman search for the coat. No coat. CRAP. WHERE IS THE COAT?
Perhaps it fell out literally on the ground in front of the library. So I drive back to the library and look. NO. ARGH!!!!! I could scream. Actually, I do a little foot stomp and some hair pulling, but nothing too dramatic as the guard in the guard shack can see me. Then I see a jacket and pull it out. There, crumpled up with the jacket is his coat. Woot!
The bus is now about 7-9 minutes ahead of me. Poo sticks.
Things remained uneventful until it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have the check for the hotel.
"Michele. Do you have the check for the hotel or do I?" I said into my iPhone. Inside, I know the answer.
"You do."
"No. I don't. It's back in my office. I'll get off at the next exit and go back." Mind you, we are 50 miles into the trip. Jam is sleeping peacefully. I get off at the next exit and start back to Tampa. Michele calls and says we should just charge it and to forget about the check. I get back on the highway towards Orlando. The bus is a good 15 minutes ahead of me. There is no way I am catching up.
This is where usually I make a very bad mapping decision. Where most people would just stay the course and keep on track, I, however, feel the need to fly off the handle and flail about wildly. Generally, this is very amusing to the people around me and someone can say, "Cheryl, that doesn't make sense" and I won't do it. However, all I have is Jam and he is snoring, so instead of staying on 417 like I should have, I decided that my GPS system knew a better way. This is the same GPS system that took me on only surface streets to a place near Orlando because I had inadvertently set some button to not use the highway. Seriously? There's a button that does that? Who wants that button?
I'm a bit like Michael Scott when it comes to GPS systems.
So, after the tollbooth, I don't listen to Michele tell me that it's super easy to get to Panera from 417, I get off 417 and start out on the surface streets. It's 22 miles. Several miles later, it's still 22 miles and I'm confused and I call Michele.
"Where are you? Have you gotten to Panera yet?" I'm still the same distance away from Panera that I was 10 minutes ago. I seem to have gone back in time. I hate Orlando. Michele starts to tell me about how to get to Panera and I don't have the heart to tell her that I am no where near 417. I just agree.
I arrive 20 minutes later. Jam has been popping up and looking out the window and then looking at me accusingly: "Why are we STILL on the road?" It's kind of like the look he is giving me below on the bus.
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| Jam sitting on a bus. He is looking up at the camera from the space in front of the seats. |
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| Jam and Andre at UCF's campus at the beginning of the KNIGHTMUN tournament. Jam is lying down in coat. |
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| Jam is lying down and contemplating the far distance as the kids try to figure out where they are going. |
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| Jam and Michele in the Courtyard Marriott hotel room. Jam is sitting by the bed. |
At 3 am and 5 am Jam leaped up on the bed (all four paws) and had to be put back on the floor and told to go to sleep again. I had put the tie-down too long, evidently, but at 3 am and 5 am, this didn't occur to me.
So he made it through the night and didn't destroy anything. Yea!
Didn't like his travel crate and wouldn't sleep in it. Boo!
Was a really good boy in the hotel, restaurant and bookstore all day long. Yea!
Was amazing with elevators and actually seemed to get the find the elevator command by the end of the weekend. Super yea!
Overall, a solid win for Jam at the MUN tournament.
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