Pippi and the Car

Just by saying the word 'car' within earshot of Pippi, you can get her attention. Her little ears poke up and she stares into your face with alacrity. Before going downstairs to the car, Pippi has to put on a harness that serves as part of her seat belt. Although she usually protests loudly when someone tries to slip something over her head, this harness is never a problem. In the elevator her tail thumps vigorously. When we get down to the garage, she bolts to our car, where she circles in excitement before someone opens the door to the backseat. At this point, she leaps in and sits relatively patiently until one of us climbs in with and buckles her seat belt. When the car gets going, she plops herself into someone's lap and falls asleep, awaking only when we near our destination. Pippi likes to smell the air outside. Sometimes I open the window for her. But, recently, Pippi has opened the window on her own. For the third time, yesterday, she stepped on the switch until the window was down low enough for her to stick her head partway out.