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My dog always gets sick in the car. Not just my car, any car. Every car we’ve owned. Big car, little car, medium car, whatever car it is, he gets sick. Short journey, not-so-short journey. Windows down, windows up. Every single time. But every time we embark on a journey, whether it be to the beach or the vet, I always hope that this time will be the one that doesn’t end with the floor of the car adorned with canine vomit. Mind you, I always go prepared with a roll of kitchen towel, wipes, gloves, a plastic bag for the detritus, and an anti-bacterial cleaning spray of some kind. Today, I truly believed that I had beaten it. We drove up, slowly, to the vet and arrived without any sign of doggie spew. And then we drove back home. Everything seemed fine. Finally, I’d cracked it, I thought to myself. I walked into the house with the dog, he lay down in front of the couch and then, realising I’d forgotten to take the dog seat cover out of the car, I went back out again. I opened the back door on the other side of the car and there it...