You never know how well a dog will travel. Most travel well. Some get sick. Some just love going places, and that describes the Dude. He loves to go in the car because he knows there is a good chance we'll go somewhere he'll meet new people.
I'm getting ready to head out for a long trip to Texas and then to Florida, then back home to Wyoming again. The Dude is coming with me. He'll enjoy the stops we make along the way, and all the new people he'll meet.
Anyway, the Dude and I usually stay at Motel 6 because, with rare exception, they accept dogs. In fact, they cater to pet owners. I think their preference is smaller animals - no giraffe or water buffalo - and they recognize that pets are part of the family.
Dude isn't much for checking in, but he sure likes to run down the hallway and guess which room we're staying in. He never gets it right, but he's getting better at it.
He's the best one could ever hope for in the car. As long as he has his bed, he'll curl up and sleep for hours. All I have to do is let him out at the rest stops and offer him food and water as we cruise along. Occasionally, he'll need to get up on the console to see if I'm still headed in the right direction, and to give my right ear a few licks.
As a general rule, when the car slows down, he gets up. If we're going through a town and the window is down, he'll stick his head out to catch the local sights, sounds and smells. After all, he's got to let the other Boston Terrier lovers know that there's a new Dude in town.
As for me, my motto is: Have Dude, will travel.