A Drive in the Snow

Howard, the dog, loves a trip in the car. Of course he gets jittery all over when going over speed bumps (the way to the vet is riddled with these), but it seems he thinks it worth the risk. Often he rides to school (more than once becoming an honorary kindergartner) or the store (though here he stays to warm my seat until I return). It was not unusual, then for me to take him along as I drove my mom toward her journey home on Monday. (photo below from 2002)
What was unusual was his behavior. As one who venerates a ride in the car, Howard sits at attention throughout most trips. If possible he'll be in the passenger seat. On Monday he paced the couch-like seat in the far back of the van. Pacing until he could no longer stand it, then he began peaking over the back seat.
It was snowy, treacherously so, but a dog (even one this experienced) wouldn't react so--my mom and I began watching him. Soon he began whining. I reflected on my driving; assuring myself it wasn't going so badly. Next Howie cried--really cried. As I carefully glanced into my rear-view mirror I noticed that all four dog feet were now perched atop the narrow ridge of the seat! I shouted at him.
Obediently, the dog changed plans. My mom kept tabs on the next part; remarking that his small body was now making its way under the back seat. Now I worried. He is 'at weight' for his breed, but is a bit portly for such undertakings. A yelp of pain issued from the rear of the car.
I worried more after that, concerned that we'd have to find a way to pry him out while still driving safely. Knowing my driving was at stake, my mom began a play-by-play narration. She reported that Howard had given up this particular route and was (very cutely) backing out. With relief, I drove on.
Shortly we were at our location. Dropping mom off, I noticed the lovely retro turquoise washing gloves we'd given her. Howard's actions began to make sense! He lusted after the gloves....after all they had that same pheromonic scent offered up by his latex chicken toy.
Mom left, gloves in bag. The dog and I both sighed and then he whimpered. I will miss my mom, he will dream of her gloves.