The bags still sit by the front door and Dexter is beyond confused. He knows that suitcases by the door means that someone, possibly he included, is going somewhere.
Two hours before we were to leave and about three hours after I posted that we were almost off on our road trippin’ adventures Carter spiked a fever. A 103 degree fever. He was radiating heat and covered in goose bumps and immediately fell asleep after I gave him Ibuprofen. Husband and I hemmed and hawed and changed our minds a dozen times. In our minds were were on the road. Everything was in place. The hotel reservation was made and our plans were in motion. Carter would just sleep in the car and we could make it the first leg of our trip. Maybe he would wake up the next morning and be back to normal. Maybe he would not. Maybe he would vomit or have diarrhea while we were driving. He would be miserable and therefore we would be miserable. We could not do that to him.
We made the tough but what I feel is the correct decision. We stayed home. There is a chance that he will make a full recovery come the morning and if so we will load up the car and drive. But I am not holding my breath.