Who's driving?

My family lives 200 miles away. As in many Texas trips, it's so simple I know I can go from my doorstep to their's with four rights and two lefts.

But when I make the trip for the holidays this week, it won't be that simple although I'll make even fewer stops than usual. There's no co-pilot.

All dogs seem to love to go. Sam was the same way. Although with his cocker spaniel hips, he couldn't jump into the pickup and had to take a half jump while I pushed his butt into the floorboard. Sam also wasn't like other dogs who want the window down. The blowing even seemed to bother him.

Despite quirks, he loved to go. So, he got to. He just seemed to like to see the world go by in the windshield and the new faces out the window.

When I'd leave the vehicle, he'd commander the driver's seat. Not curl up in the seat, but park like a person. I came out of a restaurant once with a German tourist taking pictures of the Texan dog who drove the pick up.

The longest trips we took were those holiday sojourns up to my family. Three hours on the road isn't really that long. But it helped to have anything else breathing in the vehicle, to observe the goings on of passing vehicles and see their reactions. Sam and I had it down. We'd stop at this barbecue spot in Salado because he liked the dirt parking lot as a place to do first business. We'd stop at this truck stop outside Waco to the single patch of grass under the sign for the same reason. And then we'd march for the final push into Arlington.

It was holiday tradition. One that after more than a decade I guess I got used to without knowing it.

It'll be time to leave again in a few days. I'll notice packing doesn't require a couple of bowls and a bag of food. I'll catch I don't have to do a bump butt to get anyone in the seat. No matter how loudly I play the radio, it will be oddly quiet.

But I think I just might stop in Salado for some barbecue, whether I'm hungry or not.