I'm going to be one of those women living alone, talking to her animals. I have been home alone a lot recently, having given up my full time job on June 1st, and I'm already explaining what I'm doing to one of the dogs! A sign of things to come?
Speaking of dogs: up until yesterday I was taking care of my sister's dog, Thumper.
Thumper came to me in early January for several months' stay while my sister was in transition. I was set to send her back to Jane on June 12th, and I arose at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. to take her to the airport. I arrived at Northwest Airlines Cargo, and was surprised to find a number of people already in line with pets going who knows where. One gentleman's little dog was refused because the kennel was so small the dog couldn't do the things it was supposed to be able to do -- get up and move around or sit without its head bumping into the top of the crate. The man left hoping to find a store open at that time of day so he could purchase another kennel and still make the flight. Those of us left behind were rather smug about his gross error and our own preparedness.
I awaited my turn, with Thumper in the car, as she is fear aggressive towards certain other dogs (and that's another story, as I have 2 dogs of my own. It was a very interesting 5 months). I was helped by a very nice man, who took all my information, as well as Thumper's international health certificate since she was going to Canada. He was about to process my credit card, when he said, "Now tell me that your crate has ventilation on all 4 sides." Well, I couldn't actually do that, as it only had ventilation on 3 sides. I assured him that it was all right, because she had traveled in this crate to and from Canada and the Caribbean and it hadn't been a problem. He assured me that it was a problem and he would lose his job if he let the crate through. Near tears I asked if they had a drill. Negative. Barely able to control myself until I got back into the car, I cried hard for much of the drive with Thumper back to the house. In addition to frustration, I was angry at myself for allowing myself to rationalize my way to ignoring what was clearly stated in the guidelines: Dogs traveling out of the country need ventilation on all 4 sides. Never mind that the dog was to fly from St. Louis to Houston, then Houston to Newark and that the last leg of her journey, Newark to Halifax was the shortest in a long day of circuitous travel! I was working on false assumptions, as I found out later, when I talked with my sister. Although Thumper had indeed flown before, she had only ever done so domestically. She had traveled from the U.S. Virgin Islands to Boston, from Boston to Florida, and from Florida to St. Louis. Rather than flying to Nova Scotia, she had been chauffeured to Canada in my sister's car. Moral of this story: read the directions, dummy, and follow them!
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