Monday, October 4, 2010
Dorians Tale part 3
Sep 12, 2010 6:40pm Las Vegas
Dorian is stowed below the seat in front of me for what, I’m sure he hopes, is his last flight. Again it’s a full flight and again it is leaving late.
I got to the Salt Lake airport with plenty of time. Paid the $75 for pet transport, got him tagged, and then turned my bags over to security. I checked two bags. One was my stuff; the other was a hard case pet taxi, filled with Dorian’s food, toys, water bowl, and litter scoop & lint rollers. With wheels on the suitcase and cat stuff not weighing as much as the cat, I found getting to security a bit of a challenge. I ended up making a request at security; Dorian was skittish and I didn’t want to take him out of the bag. I asked if it could be hand inspected they said no but opened a gate and took the cat carrier. I went through security and followed two security agents to a small room where I held Dorian and an agent patted him down (she really likes cats.) while the other one ran the carrier through the x-ray machine. They declared both bomb free. When the guy brought in the bag Dorian practically jumped back into it and squatted down to make it easy to zip shut. It was a far cry from the wrestling match Amy and I did to get him zipped into it for the trip to the airport.
After security I needed to hike to my gate. It was not a short trip and while Dorian is not the fattest cat I’ve ever owned, he’s not the lightest either. The carrier has no wheels and by the time I found my gate the first order of business was getting a drink, and taking some pills for my back and then doing a little bit of stretching—stretching that I failed to do in Vegas. I didn’t notice until that point that the flight was delayed. We got off the ground an hour late. I felt sorry for Dorian who could have enjoyed another hour not trapped in a carrier. That’s the thing, as long of a day as it is for me I can at least do things like eat, drink, and most importantly, use a bathroom. I did bring a bit of food for him but we cut off his water supply before leaving for church. I’ve wet my fingers a few times on my trips to bathrooms and stuck them in the carrier in case he would like to lick them dry. I’ve also grabbed a few of his food pellets and from time to time have offered him some. In truth I’m glad that my flight from Salt Lake was late because given the choice I’d much rather sit in that airport and watch the Packer game on monitors, than sit in the sun in Vegas and have to look at slot machines. Go Pack Go. The game was just finishing the 3rd quarter when we boarded. For the first half I was sitting too far away. I thought Dorian would enjoy looking out a window so I sat by the windows that were far from the monitors. People asked about him and I happily told his story. Vegas no one made eye-contact even though we’re all headed back to Wisconsin. I tried to strike up a conversation with one woman, but she didn’t seem to enjoy the idea of returning to Milwaukee as much as I did.
In Las Vegas we were supposed to land at gate B12 and the flight was to take off from B12, but because they were holding flights for those who were late our plan gated at B20 and again I had some walking to do with a very squirmy cat. With Southwest’s numbered boarding system and this trip being planned back in July, I had good numbers. For the first flight I was the 68th passenger to board. For the next I was 32. All the planes are the same 737s and If you must know I like to sit just behind the wing on the left side when facing front. Row 17 is my favorite but with a bunch of crumbs on the floor this flight I moved one row back and I’ve got to tell you I don’t like the position of the windows. It’s kind of sad. Each flight is a bit less fun than the one before. The pilot just chimed in and the wind is in our favor so we may not be too late. The book I was reading I finished, so all I’ve got now is my writing.
I didn’t’ buy dinner; the Vegas airport did not impress me at all.