pet connection

I’m starting to see the problem with driving all these SUVs: My pleasure centers are playing games with my sense of wanting to do what’s right for the environment and for my fellow drivers on the road. I want a small, safe to others and to me, fuel-efficient — better yet, hybrid — vehicle that offers good handling, comfort for me and room for at least two large-ish dog crates — mine are Midwest Side-by-Sides — and all the gear that goes with. My brain wants a Honda Element, but my heart lusts for something with more luxury and size.

What I most love driving are not little cute utes — although I do really like them! — but the biggish SUVs. This is so wrong, I know. First the Ford Explorer, and now the Volvo XC90. (I do have my limits, however: The Infiniti QX56 was just too big for me. I mean, gosh, look at this. Heather is NOT a miniature retriever.)

Please, let me just get this off my chest, and then go befriend a river or something: I wanted to steal my Volvo XC90 test vehicle. They had to wrestle the keys from my hand. Here’s why:

• It’s beautiful, inside and out. I whistled under my breath in appreciation when they brought it to me, and I kept smiling at it coquettishly when I would see it in the driveway in the morning. Inside, it’s classy.
• It’s beautiful to drive. Smooth, powerful and quiet. Inside, you feel pampered, and … oh … safe. It IS a Volvo, after all.
• It’s roomy, with lots of space for crates and gear. No problem here. My tester had taupe leather, and light carpet in the back. Black dogs in my house, so I would go dark on the upholstery. Otherwise, mmmmm-mmmm comfortable. The lumbar support was the best yet. (OK, I admit it: I’m getting old!)
• Gas mileage? Well, it’s no hybrid nor is it a cute-ute, but honestly, it’s not bad for a biggish SUV. Try 17 city, 22 highway for the basic model, and 15 and 20 for the top of the line.
• My dog Woody (pictured) is Swedish. He could talk to the car, and they’d be happy together. Sometimes I think Woody misses Sweden.

The test car I drove had everything except heated seats, and stickered out at $46,500. (Darling Volvo: For $46,500, I want heated seats. Not as an option. Standard. Get it?) Combined with the fuel economy, the sticker price makes the vehicle economical only if you’re wealthy and comparing it to even more expensive, truly bling-heavy SUVs.

But it more than fills all the dogmobile requirements for space — crates no problem at all. Economy is the only place you can fault it, and once again, it seems competitive in its class.

Bottom line: I don’t know what else to say except:

I love you, Volvo XC90, despite it all. I know it’s wrong, but I don’t care right now. Please come back to me. Woody misses you, too.