When "wanna gofor aride" comes from my human's mouth, it means we get to play my favorite game of run away from the leash. Mom tries so hard to catch me. I think she really likes it when we run circles around the dining table. I feel sorry after a couple minutes because she is so slow. That is when I run to the door and sit so she can put on my harness and leash.
Then she opens the door to a magical world called garage. Such wonderful smells there, and lots of dead bugs. Of course, I have to sniff all of them, taste a few, then run a few laps around car. It is a metal box that takes us places, and it has no legs! My human opens car up, and I get to leap high into the air to get in. But I never run around in car, because mom makes me go into crate. I do not like crate, and I make sure to let her know about it by furiously scratching the mesh side while she tries to zip it up. Sometimes I get her to pause, but mom is persistent and always wins that game.
My human drives car on a thing called a highway, which has so many shiny moving objects that my mind goes into overload. Meaning I must bark. Mom lets me do it for a bit, but then I get told to laydown. I stop because it is harder to see all the sparkly sheep that need to be herded. Mom tells me I am a good kid, and I chill. Until she decides to sing along with a song on the radio. I like singing, too. So I join in. Just like when she talks to someone on the speakerphone. It is way better when three are in a conversation. I do not trust the other cars passing by. Especially the long, giant boxes with really loud fronts. I bark to tell them to stay away from my mom and my car. Yup, every single one. You cannot be too careful, right?
The very best part of aride is when car stops and goes silent. Mom opens up crate, and I get to jump into her arms. There is nothing better than a hug from my human. Well, maybe a belly rub.