Within six weeks of getting our new puppy she was packed into her travel bag and toted across the ocean. Thank goodness she loves to sleep and seemingly never has to go to the bathroom. She tucks herself into her cave and goes into meditation mode.
The only time she comes out is at airport security. I’ll probably get on some watch list for saying this, but if you ever wanted to sneak something onto a plane take a cute puppy through security. TSA seems to have a weak spot for a living stuffed animal. I can’t tell you how many times they have all left their posts to come over and give her a little pet. Jolie loves the attention as she goes through the metal detector in my arms. She reluctantly says goodbye before going back into her bag. From there on no one knows she is on the plane until we land in Paris. After passing customs and before picking up our bags, we rush her out into the oceans of parking lots. Jolie launches out of her bag, wiggles a big thanks for her freedom, and scurries off to investigate the trails of French dogs. A few sniffs, a long pee and life will be good from here on in. Unlike here in the States, dogs are allowed to enter almost any public space. (I think that cat hospitals are the only exception.) You should see the treats she gets from the bakery lady. That’s why the Dog-and-bag weight limits are an issue for the flight home. Fortunately they haven’t established similar weight limits for Americans returning after weeks of enjoying French cuisine.
The only time she comes out is at airport security. I’ll probably get on some watch list for saying this, but if you ever wanted to sneak something onto a plane take a cute puppy through security. TSA seems to have a weak spot for a living stuffed animal. I can’t tell you how many times they have all left their posts to come over and give her a little pet. Jolie loves the attention as she goes through the metal detector in my arms. She reluctantly says goodbye before going back into her bag. From there on no one knows she is on the plane until we land in Paris. After passing customs and before picking up our bags, we rush her out into the oceans of parking lots. Jolie launches out of her bag, wiggles a big thanks for her freedom, and scurries off to investigate the trails of French dogs. A few sniffs, a long pee and life will be good from here on in. Unlike here in the States, dogs are allowed to enter almost any public space. (I think that cat hospitals are the only exception.) You should see the treats she gets from the bakery lady. That’s why the Dog-and-bag weight limits are an issue for the flight home. Fortunately they haven’t established similar weight limits for Americans returning after weeks of enjoying French cuisine.
