By Galen Simmons
As I write this column, I am sitting in a quaint cottage on the shores of Longbow Lake just outside of the City of Kenora in northern Ontario.
My mom, sister, girlfriend and I made the trip up to Kenora last week to visit family, something my immediate family has done every summer – or every other summer after my dad passed – since I was a baby.
The trip is a somewhat long one. It’s about an hour and a half by car from Stratford to Pearson Airport, a little more than a two-and-a-half-hour flight from Toronto to Winnipeg, and then another two-and-a-half-hour drive from Winnipeg back over the Ontario border to Kenora.
This year, my girlfriend, Julia, joined us for the first time on our annual pilgrimage to my patrilineal roots, and we decided, instead of paying for doggy daycare, we would bring her dog – a one-and-a-half-year-old mini cockapoo named Phoebe who looks more like an Irish setter puppy – along for the ride.
Neither Julia or I have ever travelled with a pet in any mode of transportation other than a car, and Phoebe, too, has never known any other way to get from Point A to Point B, so we weren’t sure what to expect.
Because of her size, we had to stow Phoebe in the pressurized-cargo compartment of the plan, so we called the airport well in advance and booked a spot for her and her kennel in the belly of the beast. Even so, the ticket agent said there was no guarantee there would be room for Phoebe in the plane and we would only know for sure on the day of our flight.
Needless to say, both Julia and I were a bundle of nerves when we arrived at the Park ‘N’ Fly lot at Pearson and boarded the shuttle bus to Terminal 1. Once we arrived, we were told to wait in line to speak with a ticket agent since we were flying with a live animal and would need to drop her off at the oversized/fragile luggage desk.
So, we waited, and we waited, and we waited. Forty-five minutes later we stepped out from the front of the line and walked up to the counter to speak with a perfectly pleasant and slightly inexperienced ticket agent. With a little less than an hour before we were to board, the ticket agent and her supervisor did their best have us fill out the tags, place the stickers, and tie down the hard-top dog carrier we’d purchased somewhat last minute the night before.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. We had our boarding passes and we brought Phoebe to the oversized-baggage counter to have her carrier scanned for dangers (drugs, weapons, illegal immigrants; who knows what people smuggle in their dog carriers). As another ticket agent was checking out the carrier, she suddenly realized we hadn’t gotten a luggage tag and, according to her, Phoebe would not have made it to Winnipeg if she hadn’t noticed it was missing, and we likely would have been pulled off the plane, too.
So that was another layer of stress, worrying about what could have been, but my girlfriend quickly ran back to the original ticket agent, explained the situation and had a luggage tag printed and stuck to Pheobe’s carrier in no time.
We were then instructed to leave the luggage cart carrying Phoebe in her carrier at the oversized-luggage desk – one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do – and proceed through security to our gate. With all the confusion and chaos of getting Phoebe ready to fly, we only just made it to our gate with less than 10 minutes to spare.
Julia and I worried about Phoebe for the whole flight. Did she make it on the plane alright? Was she hungry? Thirsty? Did she have to go to the bathroom? Where would we find her when we got to Winnipeg?
As it turned out, we had nothing to worry about. A luggage staff member at the Winnipeg Airport brought Phoebe out from behind a door at the back of the luggage-carousel area shortly after we picked up our other bags, Julia took her out for a quick pee and a runaround in the small dog park just outside the airport, and we all loaded into a rental car and headed toward our rental cottage in Kenora.
While the first time flying with a dog was stressful, I don’t regret bringing Phoebe at all. She’s having so much fun exploring her new surroundings, riding in a boat for the first time, and going for an entirely unintended swim off the dock – and we’re having fun watching her experience all of it.
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