"Look what I got for you!" Mom pulled a doomahickey out of the suitcase and held it up proudly by the horn. "Isn't it great?"
The horn rode a saddle with some sort of plate dangling from the elastic waistbands tied to its corners. "What is it?" I sniffed.
"It's a harness for the GoPro." She threaded the bands around my head and shoulders until the saddle was on my back and the plate on my chest. I tried to shake the horn off my back, but its saddle was like a hug that wouldn't let go.
I looked at Mom with the biggest puppy eyes I could muster. "Why don't you wear the doomahickey? This seems like something Wile E. Coyote would do."
"Everything is more fun from a dog's perspective," Mom said, confident as a coyote that her plan would work out.
"Duh. That's why the cartoons are from the Coyote's perspective," I said. "But have you seen how they end?"
I forgot about the saddle the moment I saw how many cars were in the kennel. A full car kennel meant the trail would be full of Friends! I followed the scent of strangers without so much as a thought to putting Mom on leash.