Dog's On A Plane (Part 2)
Posted: Friday, January 15, 2010
by Jack H. Schick
The hunt with Riley in California was a total bust. I shouldn't have bothered with the hassle of getting him out there. There were still quail and rabbits running around the yard, but they frown on shotgun shooting in our neighborhood. We spent hours and hours covering huge areas of the Mojave and the Big Horn Mountains Wilderness area. We didn't see another living thing. Well, we saw bugs. He ate a couple big, black beetles that I couldn't identify. He didn't get sick. I should have realized. Why would animals be out in the desert when there were bird baths and feeders in everybody's yard? They were all 'in town' where the living was easy.
I've never had a good opinion of Philly airport, and it did not improve that night. It was late when we landed, after midnight. Everything was closed up. We'd spent $12 on a couple of bottles of water water at LAX, since they won't let you carry it on any more. We saved some for the dog this time. He was parched when we got him back on the way out . He'd been in his crate for close to twelve hours when we landed in Philly.
When we got to the baggage claim I went to the 'passenger service' office. There were three people behind the counter and about twenty wanting service. It didn't bode well. "Where do I pick up my guns and my dog?" I asked when I finally got my turn. The guy didn't even look at me, just pointed. I hiked a hundred yards down to the other end of the building and waited at the 'special luggage' conveyor. There was no one around. My wife stayed up with the rest of the passengers. It was about twenty minutes before any suitcases started tumbling out. She soon had ours.
I waited and waited. No one came. The conveyor wasn't running. I finally walked back to the service counter and insisted on the truth this time. "Where do I get my guns and my dog?" He at least he looked at me this time. "Down the other end." he scowled. I told my wife to stay where she was and keep her eyes open. I didn't trust him. I walked all the way back to the other end again.
Before I got half way there she hollered. The gun case had come careening down the chute and was bouncing along the carousel. I wondered about the paperwork I had to show to get it back, but just shoved it in my pocket and grabbed the case right in front of a security officer. It was now forty-five minutes since we landed. The rest of the passengers from our flight were all long gone. Surely they wouldn't deliver the dog crate like that. I hiked back down to the 'special luggage' chute.
It was now an hour after we'd landed. Another flight load of bedraggled travelers had come in, picked up their bags and were all gone not too. I hiked back up to the service counter. I'll admit it, I wasn't very pleasant this time. I yelled at the guy. "Where's my dog! I've been waiting over an hour!"
"Did you ask somebody?" he yelled back. He thought I had a bad attitude. I did.
"I asked YOU a half hour ago!" I yelled a little louder. I didn't like his attitude either.
He must have remembered me then, because he got an apologetic look on his face and went to the telephone. He told me it would just be a few more minutes. I should go down to the other end and wait. My wife looked madder than I was when I got back, and I was pretty mad. I kept thinking of poor Riley, caged up with no water, now for 13 hours.
A few minutes later there was an announcement. "Supervisor. Report to special luggage area."
"He's dead." my wife moaned. "He died and they have to get the supervisor." I was thinking the same thing. The anger quickly turned to fear. We continued to wait, and wait. The last flight was gone. They were closing the service office.
Finally, an hour and a half after we landed, a big guy in an airline uniform appeared, dragging a dog crate with "My Name Is Riley" written on the front. I could see him moving around inside, alive. We ran over. My fear instantly turned back to spicy hot anger. The guy had a big smirk on his face (it could have been a smile, but I wasn't giving him the benefit of the doubt). He looked like he was expecting a tip. I gave him one. "You people have the most f...ed up airport on the planet!" He quit smirking, and didn't get a tip.
Out at the parking shuttle loading area, I let Riley out. He slurped up all the water we had. He looked nearly as angry and tired as we were. The shuttle bus stopped a few yards up from us. By the time we got all our stuff there, the doors closed and the bus started to pull away.
My wife is usually pretty even tempered. Not this time. She threw down her suitcase, darted out into the street and pounded with both fists on the bus door. "STOP THE G.. D... BUS!" she shrieked. The driver got a horrified look on her face. The passengers lurched forward as she stomped on the brakes. I gave the poor woman a big tip and we got to the car with no further ado. The hour drive home seemed long, but we were starting to feel better. Riley sure was, anyway.
Now, if we take the dogs on vacation we drive. Driving coast to coast is much easier and more pleasant than flying. We have a lot of fun. If you're thinking about flying your dog, don't do it! One thing is for sure. It'll be a cold day in Cairo the next time my dog's on a plane.
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More commentsnice to read the second part very interesting,nice workThanks for reading
I think it's better not to write 2 part articles...I didn't see part 1. Maybe make them just 2 separate, self contained articles. I really enjoyed this one and agree 100%!I agree. I got tired and thought it was too long, so I did 2. thanks.
I really enjoyed reading this article, but at the same time I felt really bad for Riley. Having two dogs of my own I could not even imaging the words that would have came out of my mouth. You a better man then I am.It was rough. Thanks Jean
Humm.Interesting topic.Thanks for reading
Enjoyed it! Poor dog - did you ever find out what the actual hold up was?Thanks for reading
Nicely written. I enjoyed reading this article. Look forward to seeing more.Thanks for reading
Thanks for sharing this. Great work.Thanks for reading
Jack great article! I have a cat of my own, not a dog yet, though to most people your pet is really part of the family! At first I didn't like the language you gave to the worker at airport, then I thought hey I don't blame your wife and you for being @#$@#&*ed or "fascinated" by the slow poor service there. I would have reacted the same! Now I am thinking twice about flying with my cat!thanks for reading
Jack...what a terrific...heart pounding story! I was with you all the way. While I have never put a dog on a plane, I have always had reservations about doing so.
And now it seems that my concerns, when the possibility arose in the past, were justified. I am so happy that Riley made it through the ordeal...and you and your wife too.Thanks for reading
If you don't get on another airplane with Riley we may never get another good story. Maybe your next road trip with him will be a notable adventure for us to hear about.I've posted 3 others in which Riley participated. Boarder Security and Cross'n Texas. And Part 1.
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