Generally speaking, I really don’t mind embodying lots of the expected stereotypes: tall, thin, well groomed, meticulous attention to detail. I don’t even mind the bad ones: self-absorbed, bitchy, bossy, materialistic.
But earlier this month, I fell victim to one stereotype that I didn’t like as much as I thought I might . . . .
The fussy old man with a fluffy white dog in a purse at the airport.
Ricky and I planned to go to Boca for two weeks, leaving on December 26. We are planning to make the home available for vacation rentals, and these two weeks were 100% dedicated to working on the house.
There would be no night life, no side trips; just two weeks of roll-up-your-sleeves home improvement.
When we travel, we always have a house-sitter who stays here with Sniffer. On occasion he stays with a friend and once he stayed at a kennel.
This time, since it was two weeks there were more considerations:
- That’s alot to ask of a house sitter. Take care of the house AND an attention craving dog.
- That’s way too long to be a guest at someone’s house.
- I get really lonely for my Sniffer-Puppy and two weeks was just too long to be without him.
First thing: find out what the airlines charge to bring a pet. As it turns out, pet airfare can be more costly that people airfare. Even as carry-on, the fee is between $100 and $125 PER FLIGHT SEGMENT. So, if you have a connection between here and Boca, the pet fee would be $500. We were going from Minneapolis, so Sniffer’s ticket was roughly the same price as mine: $250.
Next thing: find an airline approve pet carrier. The one I wanted, a smart Louis Vuitton model, at nearly $2,000 was a bit cost prohibitive.
And there were way too many out there that were much more “Paris Hilton” than “Sexy Geezer on his way to Boca”
For once, we ended up doing something like normal people and bought a basic, airline approved pet carrier.
Next thing, a trip to the vet for some doggie valium. As it turns out, the vet prescribed the exact dosage of Xanax I pop when things are getting to be too much, so I knew between the two of us, we’d be just fine.
When travel day came, it was pleasant for Sniffer. Always up for a new adventure, he was taking in the sights and smells of everything. Since we put his training collar on him, one wave of the remote control within his line of sight calmed any whining for being restrained.
Remember, he’s used to being king of the world, and hanging out in a purse was NOT his idea of a great time.
I on the other hand, was a wreck. One of the stipulations of pet travel is that if the pet misbehaves, you will be banned from the airline.
Since we had a direct flight to Boca, I knew we’d get there one way or another. However, my big fear was that we’d have an episode, and I’d have to pay four million dollars for a one-way car rental to get Sniffer and I back home.
As it turns out, I was the worst behaved, most anxious traveler of our entourage. At least according to Ricky. Which he gleefully shared with anyone who asked how our travel went.
Ricky returned to attend to some business about 10 days ago, and Sniffer and I traveled back to Fargo on Tuesday. I’m pleased to report that both he and I were able to make the trip home with minimal medication and zero incident.
Today’s Gay Agenda: After a lifetime of being in the minority, there’s virtually nothing BUT fussy old gay men with fluffy white dogs in a purse at the Boca airport.