Today I travelled to the doctor's office in the next county. Grassy wanted to go. I said, "No, Grassy. It's not safe to ride the windshield wiper down the interstate at 70. You probably will have an accident, and not come home to all your friends. You'll have to make new friends. Stay home." Grassy wouldn't listen.
By the time we got to the next county, Grassy was concerned, but he held on all the way to the doctor's office. I shooed him away, hoping he would find a new life for himself rather than risk the return trip. When I came back and started home, there was Grassy on the windshield again. He made it all the way home, and now he's out telling all his friends about his adventure.
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