Holding on. . .

I was taking Max for his evening walk when a girl riding a red bicycle wooshed by us.  She was pedaling quickly, but grasping the handlebars with only one hand.  With her other hand, she held a small dog firmly in her lap. The dog's paws were braced on the girl's legs and he moved with the girl as she rode.  His face was contorted into a kind of doggie panic.  He was holding on, but just barely.  That pretty much sums up my whole day.