The Great Highway Drama: One Dog, One Cat, and a (Very Suspicious) Truck

It was supposed to be a simple drive—me, the dog, the cat, and a quick run to grab some snacks. Nothing dramatic. Nothing worth writing about. Until we ended up behind a truck being towed… facing us.

Now, from our view in the car, it looked like we were driving head-on into an oncoming vehicle. Just a truck, rolling steadily toward us in reverse, like something out of Final Destination. I knew it was being towed. I knew we were safe. But for a moment, the illusion was wild.

My dog? Completely unbothered. Tongue lolling out, eyes half-closed, catching the breeze from the cracked window. His faith in me was absolute. “You got this, human,” his whole body seemed to say. He didn’t move a muscle.

My cat? A different story.

He went full drama mode—claws dug deep into the seat, pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates, tail puffed up like a feather duster in a hurricane. He looked at me like I had personally driven him into the apocalypse. I could practically hear his internal monologue: “This is how it ends? Because you needed chips?”

The contrast was almost comedic. One trusted me without question. The other questioned every single choice I’d ever made.

Moral of the story?

Dogs have blind faith.
Cats have trust issues.
And honestly? The cat might be onto something.