Dog Jaunt

Aug 2 2013

Tacoma, WA: Rich in scoop law sign options

When I’ve got my groove on, I spend a couple of days each week in Tacoma, a city about 40 minutes south of Seattle, helping a couple of artist friends in their studios. T-town gets insufficient respect, largely because of the stink created (only rarely these days, I gather) by its waterfront paper mill, but I think it’s swell. I could mention its architectural gems, its support for local artists, or its delightful mayor, but today I’m focusing on its wealth of scoop law signs.

You’ve seen two of them already in an earlier post. My friend Chandler, who I’ve told you about before, sent me a third via Twitter:

If you think you’ve seen this one before, you have — it turns out to be the same sign they use in Rhinebeck, NY. I’d struggled to identify what the owner is holding (cattle prod? fireplace tool?), but Chandler instantly recognized that it’s a golf putter.

On a recent trip to check out the restored Old Town Dock, we walked along part of Commencement Bay (the Ruston Way walk is about 2 miles long; leashed dogs are welcome, and we saw several folks playing on the beach and in the water with their dogs). This sign met us as we left the parking lot:

Nope, no questions. That pretty much covers it.

But the best one of all was sent to me yesterday by my Tacoma friend Jessica. The sign had me smiling (that’s a GSD, sure, but still, isn’t a shovel extreme?) even before I noticed what Jessica calls the “hand embellishment”:

Surely -- oh, surely -- it's not, but it does look very much like the real thing....

Surely — oh, surely — it’s not, but it certainly looks very much like the real thing….

She assured me she wasn’t responsible (“no, not my doodywork!”), so all I can do is salute an unnamed Tacoman with an eye for detail — and thank Jessica for improving my whole week.

I’m adding this post to Dog Jaunt’s scoop law sign collection — to see others, click on the “scoop law” tag below this post, or type “scoop law” in the search bone.

Jul 31 2013

Reader’s report: Under-seat space on a Delta MD-90 (First Class), and Sherpa Delta carrier

Reader Lena sent me a message reporting on the under-seat space she and Penny, her Cava-Poo-Chon, encountered on their recent flight on a Delta MD-90. They traveled in First Class — always a potential risk, but it worked well for them. Please note that Penny was in the Sherpa Delta Deluxe carrier (the same one we used to bring our cat Cora home from Ohio). Recall that it measures 18″ long, 11″ wide, and 10.5″ tall.

Here’s Penny, currently almost 8 months old and weighing 10 lbs. “She’s supposed to be somewhere between 8-10 lbs, but I think she’ll be more like 12 lbs,” says Lena.

Queen of all she surveys from her booster seat.

Here’s what Lena told me (and here’s a floor plan of a Delta MD-90, so you can follow along — Lena and her husband were sitting on the right side of the plane):

“The carrier fits under the seat with some squishing from the top. The life vest container is under the seat taking away some height space. Also, as you can see from one picture, the carrier spills over to my seatmate’s area (aisle seat). Luckily, it’s my husband’s seat.

This view is towards the left (aisle) side of the shared under-seat space — as you’ll see in the next shot, Lena has pushed the carrier as far as it will go to the right, but it still projects into her neighbor’s space.

The second picture shows a silver bar on the right side preventing the carrier from butting against the airplane wall. That silver bar took away at least 3 inches of space.

A similar bar is installed right smack in the middle of the aisle seat’s under seat area. There is no way a carrier will fit under there.

Despite needing to squish the top of the carrier, in First Class, the window seat is the better seat for the carrier.”

Thank you so much for the report, Lena! Like I say, First Class is tricky, because so often the electronics they’ve packed under the seats leave no room at all for a carrier. It’s very helpful to see that a substantial carrier like the Delta Deluxe Sherpa works (well, mostly) on a Delta MD-90. I’m tagging this post to add it to Dog Jaunt’s growing collection of pictures of carriers under plane seats, which will help people prepare for travel — and address gate- or ticketing agents’ concerns about the workability of a carrier. I’m also adding it to Dog Jaunt’s ongoing series recording under-seat plane measurements.

Jul 29 2013

Mount Rainier with a small dog: Fun despite stringent National Park Service limitations

The sad fact is that national parks are, typically, not dog-friendly (national forests and state parks are a much better bet). Mount Rainier, the biggest landmark of all in the Puget Sound area, is a good example: You can bring a dog to Mount Rainier, but she must be on a 6-ft. leash and she cannot go on any trails, into any “wilderness or off-trail areas,” into any buildings, or onto snow. Looking at it from the other direction, she is only “permitted in parking lots, campgrounds, and on paved roads.”

One example of a sign you’ll see everywhere, alas. Please note that it’s a variant of Tacoma’s scoop law sign, with the right (in this case left) arm amputated at the shoulder. Eery, but practical. Why waste money on a new icon?!

That would be enough, normally, for me to give up. This time, though, I was reading the park’s page next to my friend Chandler, who’s spent an enormous amount of time looking at The Mountain from different angles while creating this astonishingly beautiful artist’s book (she’s the same lady who redesigned Dog Jaunt’s look, and she has a new travel blog you must see). She told me that there was fun to be had on Mt. Rainier for folks with limited mobility, and in all likelihood a small dog would like it too. She also pointed out that it was a crime we hadn’t been to Mt. Rainier in our fifteen (15) years of living in Seattle.

So Chandler organized a picnic (two picnics, in fact, which explains a lot about why she’s my friend), gathered up me and my husband and Chloe, and we drove from Tacoma to the Sunrise viewpoint (#1 on the map below — a hairpin turn embracing a parking lot, a short distance below #2, the Sunrise Visitor’s Center, which is the highest place you can drive to on the mountain). We continued to the Sunrise Visitor’s Center, retraced our path down the mountain to the (seasonally open) Stevens Canyon road and took that to Paradise (home of a larger visitor’s center and the magnificent, historic Paradise Inn, both at #3). We departed the park by way of Longmire and returned to Tacoma.

I love my Skitch app about as much as I love my panorama app. This is too small to be really useful, but at least you get an overview of where you can go. Visit the park's site to get the real, zoomable map.

I love my Skitch app about as much as I love my panorama app. This is too small to be really useful, but at least you get an overview of our day. Visit the park’s site to get the real, zoomable map.

The highlights of the trip were the Sunrise viewpoint (where we had our first picnic — I strongly recommend it over the suggested, and pretty dismal, picnic area next to the Sunrise Visitor’s Center) and the side porch of the Paradise Inn, a breezy and comfortable spot for Picnic #2. The view from Ricksecker Point (at arrow #4 on the map) of the Nisqually Glacier, source of the Nisqually River, was also a highlight, but we had run out of picnics by then.

Chloe on the ledge at the Sunset viewpoint where we had Picnic #1. Mt. Adams is the volcano in the far distance, over her left ear. The bulk (and I mean BULK) of Mt. Rainer is to her left, just out of the picture.

Behind me is this parking lot (this time, Mt. Rainier's peak is on the left side of the photo). It'd be a dull spot except for the spectacular views.

Across the road from her is this parking lot (that’s a piece of Mt. Rainier’s peak on the left side of the photo). It’d be a dull spot except for the spectacular views.

The view from the other side of the Sunrise viewpoint parking lot — lovely in a completely different way. (Did I mention the day was sun-blasted? My phone camera is struggling.)

A beauty shot of the mountain behind the visitor’s center building at Sunrise itself, up the road from the viewpoint.

Just behind it is the official picnic area at Sunrise — no indication that pets are unwelcome, but I was happy we had already eaten at the viewpoint.

Dramatic change of scene to Paradise — this is the view from the Visitor’s Center building. Paradise Inn is way out of picture, to the right (the building you can see is the guides’ headquarters).

Paradise Inn, built in 1916. A path from the parking lot leads you all the way around the building — through a service area or two, to be sure, but it’s a good leg stretch for a small dog.

A small meadow with wildflowers just below the inn. A glimpse of the gaunt Tatoosh Range in the background.

A small meadow with wildflowers just below the inn, with a glimpse of the gaunt Tatoosh Range in the background.

What you’ll see as you circumnavigate the inn: The dining hall is on the left (those buttresses are to help the inn survive the winter). The front entrance is just past the gigantic woodpile.

The inn’s lobby. How I wish it were dog-friendly!

The mountain’s peak from the front door of the inn.

That side porch you see at the far right was the location of Picnic #2. Wangle your way under the bit of roof, and you'll have shade, too, while you admire the view.

This side porch was the location of Picnic #2. Wangle your way under the bit of roof, and you’ll have shade, too, while you admire the view.

On the side porch, with shade, but not yet in those seats you can see behind Chloe.

A beauty shot of the view of the Tatooshes from the inn’s side porch.

Picnic #2, now in the chairs in the shade. When we could tear our attention away from the food, we admired the view.

Picnic #2, now in the chairs in the shade. Sometimes the only view you want is of a piece of pie.

A view of the mountain from Ricksecker Point loop drive — do not miss the turn onto that little one-way road on your way to Longmire.

The view (also from Ricksecker Point loop drive) away from the mountain, and along the course of the Nisqually River.

We saw one large dog while we were visiting, and I suspect the day was a little frustrating for him, but for Chloe there was plenty to do and sniff — and it was hot enough that she was grateful for the paws-up time she got. Here’s a short list of things I learned over the course of the day:

Visit mid-week. We found a parking place at Paradise only because — true story — someone with a Cavalier of her own noticed Chloe, by then sitting on Chandler’s lap, and told us to wait while she and her companion pulled out. Otherwise, we would still be circling, and that was on a Wednesday. Some miles before we reached Paradise, Chandler gloomily noted that if it were the weekend, we’d be bumper-to-bumper, creeping uphill.
Bring sunblock. Sunscreen just won’t cut it — even with sunblock on, my husband and I still got grill marks.
Also, bring sunglasses and a hat. Make it a large and floppy one.
Bring insect repellant. I cannot tell you how important this is. We didn’t, because there pretty much aren’t any mosquitoes in Seattle, and we’d forgotten they existed. We regretted it bitterly. The only good thing that happened, bug-wise, is that Chloe wasn’t bitten.
Also, bring hydrocortisone cream, because my hiking-crazed friends tell me the bug repellant won’t work perfectly (or, possibly, at all).
Bring water bottles for you and your pup, and drink constantly. Between the altitude and the heat and the sun, you’ll dry out rapidly. The Visitor’s Center at Paradise has a super-cool water bottle filling station you won’t want to miss.
No need for serious hiking shoes, since you won’t be leaving the parking lot area. My usual summertime Keen sandals were fine, as were my husband’s Tevas.
Bring a camera and binoculars — the views are astounding, and binoculars will bring the mountainside (still distant even at Sunrise) closer to you. There are public binoculars in the Paradise visitor’s center, but I couldn’t make them work for me.
Bring a picnic — even better, bring two picnics.

A note about logistics: Even moving fairly briskly, our itinerary took all day (we left Tacoma at about 9 am, and returned at about 7 pm). If it would fit your schedule better to spend a night near the mountain, be advised that neither the Paradise Inn nor the equally historic inn in Longmire welcomes pets. Ashford is the closest little community to the park; if we were planning an overnight stay, I’d try the Nisqually Lodge, which has generally enthusiastic reviews.

Jul 26 2013

Photo Friday: Scoop law sign from Lons-le-Saunier

This week’s scoop law sign was sent to me by Sabine and Zadig, her Westie, who write the French dog travel blog Zadigloves. Their travels recently took them to Lons-le-Saunier, in the Jura — about an hour’s drive southeast of Dijon.

You can just make out the poop itself — once again, shaped like a Hershey’s Kiss, but this time surrounded with a corona of light. It’s a positively heroic pile of poop, and both the dog and his person are regarding it with pride.

Nevertheless, the owner is sticking his hand in a “cani-sac,” and soon Lons-le-Saunier will be tidy again. Thank you, Sabine, for a really fine example of scoop law graphic design! It baffles me, but I love it.

I’m adding this post to Dog Jaunt’s scoop law sign collection — to see others, click on the “scoop law” tag below this post, or type “scoop law” in the search bone.

Jul 24 2013

Reader’s report: Under-seat space on a United 757 (First Class), and a smart alternative to a wheeled carrier

I was surprised to read this message, since my husband’s walk-by view of a United 757-200’s under-seat space in First Class had been deeply discouraging. Reader Anne reports, however, that she and Erin, her black & tan Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, both traveled comfortably in First Class on a United 757.

They flew from Washington D.C. to San Francisco (heading to a dog show in Carmel). Erin, at 15 lbs., fits nicely in a large SturdiBag:

I’m not a bit surprised that Erin did well at her conformation show — what a beauty!

She and her carrier also fit nicely, Anne says, in the space under the window seat on their United 757 (presumably not a -200 series, but United has so many 757 options that I can’t begin to guess which kind they were on). Here’s a picture of Erin and her large SturdiBag in position:

I’ll let Anne take over:

“I didn’t take measurements of the under seat area, but the SturdiBag fit quite well – no problem. The flexibility of the top of the bag helps. However, one thing to note – this is the first time I have used a SturdiBag. I have an older Cavalier – Robbie – who will be 8 years old in August. He and I have flown cross country about half a dozen times using a Large Sherpa. Robbie is a big boy. 26 pounds on a good day! He was 17 ½ pounds when he was 6 months old so just a big-boned and extremely muscular Cavalier. That said…he fits snugly in his Large Sherpa. Without exception, however, I have always flown First Class or Business. In all cases, I always book a window seat. That way I can put the bag up against the side of the plane and while it sticks out some, I have never had any flight attendants question it.”

Anne always flies on United, she tells me, “and really without exception, [has] had no issues traveling with either Erin or Robbie.” The take-home lesson, therefore, is not to lose hope over traveling First Class, even in a United 757, but rather to find out from United whether the plane you’re considering taking has an open space like the one Anne photographed.

Tip for wheeling a dog carrier around airports

For Anne, the challenge of plane travel is not the flying part, but rather the part where she’s lugging her dogs around the airport:

“I don’t care if your dog is 15 pounds (like Erin) or 26 pounds like Robbie, it’s tough to haul a dog in a bag. My ‘secret’ – which I don’t really think is a secret – is to have one of those folding luggage carts (looks just like this).

Photo by Target

I set the bag on this, secure it with the bungee cords and we roll right through the airport. It’s such a big help and then just folds up when you get to the gate and loads on the plane in the overhead. I fill a backpack with my stuff and treats, etc. for Robbie/Erin and that’s all I take on the plane.”

Thoughts about the SturdiBag

“I decided to try the Sturdibag after reading posts on Dog Jaunt and other places. I definitely like it for Erin as she is smaller and the bag itself is much, much lighter than the Sherpa. As I said, I do like that it’s flexible.”

Erin’s trip home from San Francisco

“Erin did great. Quiet as a mouse. We had a funny incident happen on the way home from San Francisco to Washington, DC. About half way through the flight, I got up to use the bathroom. Just as I was stepping up, the Captain came out of the cabin and got there before me. So, I went and stood in between First and Economy sections, stretching my legs, waiting.

About 10 minutes went by (not sure what the Captain was doing in there) and all of a sudden, I look up and see a little black body running down the aisle. Erin, known to be a bit of Houdini when it comes to escaping from soft crates, had wriggled her way out. No doubt, she was a little worried that I had not returned to my seat promptly. Up to that point, she had quietly hung out and/or slept in her crate and had shown no signs of wanting to get out. But, you know how some Cavaliers can be – always want to be with you! I quickly grabbed her and no passengers seemed to notice, except the flight attendant gave me a wry smile.

I put Erin back in her bag, successfully made it to the bathroom and when I came out, another flight attendant (who had missed the whole scene) was there and said, ‘I heard I missed your baby…can I see her???’ I, of course, obliged. Went and got Erin who proceeded to sit on the jump seat with the flight attendants all petting her for another 10 minutes or so. Erin thought she had died and gone to heaven!”

What a great story — and how kind of the flight crew not to scold Anne (no doubt they recognized that she was as surprised as anyone by Erin’s appearance, and acted rapidly to fix the problem). Thank you so much, Anne, for all the info (I am adding this post to Dog Jaunt’s ongoing series recording airplane under-seat measurements) and for the excellent luggage cart suggestion! I am always looking for ways to roll, rather than carry, Chloe, and this is such a straightforward approach.

I am also tagging this post so that it shows up in Dog Jaunt’s collection of photos of carriers in place under plane seats. To see others, click on “Pictures of carriers on planes,” which appears under “Topics” when you click on the big “Taking your pet on a plane” button at the top of the page.

Jul 22 2013

Reader’s report: Ralph in Paris (including ID tag approach)

Remember the photo I posted, one Friday, of Ralph the Bichon/Cavalier dressed for his upcoming trip to Paris? Reader Anne sent pictures from their visit, along with details about her solution for keeping Ralph’s ID current while they were out of the country.

The first news I got from Anne was that they had used the pet relief area at JFK’s Terminal 4, and that when they boarded their plane (a Delta Airbus 330-200, which has a 2-4-2 seat configuration), she found that her window seat, with Ralph underneath, was next to “a nice man…with a cat.”

Apparently all went well with that, and with the fit of Ralph’s carrier, too, since I didn’t hear anything more about the flight. Anne’s plan had been to buy the “official” Delta Sherpa carrier (please note that Ralph is a 13 lb. Bichon/Cavalier mix).

Here’s their first photo from Paris, of Ralph at a café, “hoping for crumbs”:

And here’s another picture showing, dagnabbit, that too many of Paris’s small parks are not dog-friendly:

“Ralph doesn’t understand why he can’t go in,” Anne wrote (the text on the sign means “even on a leash”)

Travel dog ID tag solution

One of the tags you see on Ralph’s collar is new. It says “Ralph de NYC” and includes a dedicated e-mail address. When you send that address a message, you get a reply with the title “My name is Ralph and I’m probably lost/Je m’appelle Ralph et je suis probablement perdu.” Here’s what the message says:

“Hello. I am Ralph, a 5-kilo Bichon/Cavalier dog. My owner is Anne [last name]. We are visiting Paris. It is my first time here and I don’t speak French. Anne speaks only a little. Anne is worried about me. Please call her ASAP at [cell phone number]. We are staying at [Paris address, including local phone number]. There is a big reward for my safe return.

Bonjour. Je suis Ralph, un 5-kilo Bichon/Cavalier chien. Mon propriétaire est Anne [last name]. Nous visitons Paris. C’est ma première fois ici et je ne parle pas français. Anne parle seulement un peu. Elle est inquiet pour moi. S’il vous plaît l’appeler dès que possible au [cell phone number]. Nous restons au [Paris address, including local phone number]. Il y a une grande recompense pour mon retour en toute sécurité.

Many thanks/Merci bien.

–Ralph the Dog”

I love how the text is in both English and French, and how it’s written very simply — reminding a finder not only that Ralph is a helpless pup but also that French is not Anne’s first language. And getting a dedicated e-mail address is a simpler business, too, than getting a URL for a dedicated web-site. Another reader, Sarah, sent a detailed report about how to do this kind of thing (perhaps Anne saw it and was inspired? I forgot to ask her).

So was bringing Ralph to Paris a good idea? Anne said it all with her last note to me, which concluded, “Been fascinating being here with Ralph. It’s as if he’s a special stamp in my passport.”

Thank you so much, Anne, for the photos and the details about Ralph’s ID tag! It’s messages like yours — even more than my own posts, I believe — that convince other people to give this dog travel thing a try.

Jul 19 2013

Photo Friday: Chloe and Lake Washington

We love to travel, but not so much in the summertime, when Seattle is perfection itself. Why would we leave? This photo is of Chloe enjoying the view from Capitol Hill over Lake Washington, the body of water just east of downtown Seattle.

Chloe’s short, frankly, so she needed the extra height my husband’s lap provided to see past the trees.

The big building above Chloe’s ears is the reconstructed Husky Stadium at the University of Washington, and if I were sitting next to you I could point out the peak of Mt. Baker, one of our friendly neighborhood volcanoes (the other one you can see from Seattle is, of course, the mighty Mt. Rainier, but it’s in the direction Chloe’s looking).

Hope the weather is being kind to you and your furry buddies! If you have pictures to share from your outings, please e-mail them to me — we’d all love to see them.

Jul 18 2013

Seattle airport’s new outdoor pet relief area (South end of baggage claim)

It is always a pleasure to be contacted by airport reps and told about new pet relief areas. My post yesterday about the new location of Seattle’s indoor pet relief area must have caught someone’s eye at SEA, because I received a message from Perry Cooper, Sea-Tac’s Media and Public Affairs Manager, urging me to update my grumpy 2009 post about the airport’s only (at that time) outdoor pet relief area, a particularly nasty object at the north end of baggage claim.

The airport has a new, second outdoor pet relief area, he told me, located at the south end of baggage claim — and therefore much more convenient for people arriving on United, Virgin America, Frontier, Delta, U.S. Air, or an international flight. Mr. Cooper says that the new pet relief area is “outside door 00” (the exit door at the end of the terminal, past Carousel #1), adding that it is “outside the terminal south of the ground transportation lot where airporter and shuttle buses pickup and dropoff. Granted, it is a bit of a walk but well worth it for the expanse of grass and cleanup materials.”

It took me a little while, but Google Maps came through. Here’s a map of the south side of the terminal. That curved building you can see the edge of is the international arrivals area (you’re looking at the roof of the big lobby with the wall of windows and the antique plane hanging from the ceiling). Arrow #1 points to, essentially, Door 02 (outside of which is the bedraggled bit of landscaping people have been using, in desperation, as a pet relief area). Arrow #2 points to Door 00, leading to the “sidewalk of the shuttle lot and then to the [dog] park.” Arrow #3 points to the grassy berm I found in 2011. Arrow #4 points to the new, official pet relief area. It is indeed quite a walk.

Here’s what you’ll find when you reach it (my thanks to Mr. Cooper for the photos):

The classic pole with poop bag dispenser (presumably there is also, somewhere, a trash can.) Please note the yellow sculpture in the background, which will help you orient yourself on the Google Maps shot I provided. The pole must be located near the nose of that big blue bus parked just north of Arrow #4 in the Google Maps shot.

This shot appears to be taken facing south past the yellow sculpture (see the chain-link fence in the background, and the row of fir trees?).

I wouldn’t have chosen to put my suitcase next to that no doubt well-marked sculpture….

It certainly looks pleasant in these sun-drenched pictures, but please note the lack of fencing, and the absence not only of a bench to rest your gear on but also a source of water. Is it worth the long walk from the terminal? Not to me. I’ll stick to my grassy berm, but I’ll be sure, as always, to clean up carefully after Chloe. Mr. Cooper followed up his earlier message with a kind correction to my map, and added, gently but firmly, “be aware of the little berm you recommend. That is actually landscaping and our landscapers might not be fond of any extra gifts left behind.”

I am adding this post to Dog Jaunt’s ongoing series of reviews of airport pet relief areas. To see others, visit Dog Jaunt’s handy guide to airport pet relief areas.

Jul 17 2013

Air-side pet relief area at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport (SEA)

This post replaces a much-edited earlier post about the indoor pet relief area at Seattle’s Sea-Tac airport. Quick recap: Sea-Tac, or SEA, has three pet relief areas, two outside baggage claim (including one I just learned about today) and another inside the terminal — the two I’ve seen are mediocre (indeed, the outdoor pet relief area at the north end of baggage claim is one of the worst I’ve ever seen), but it’s so rare to find a pet relief area on the air side of security that I’m unwilling to complain too vigorously about the new pet relief area’s faults.

Please note that this move is only temporary; I learned today from Sea-Tac’s media and public affairs manager that the pet relief area will move back to its old location across from Vino Volo in a few weeks, after construction is finished on “a new exit lane technology.” [7/14 It has indeed returned to its old location, and here’s a post about its current appearance.]

The indoor pet relief area had been located across from the Vino Volo wine bar, but moved about half a year ago. It’s now located across from Gate C2. Follow the signs to the C gates, and then look for the pet relief area sign.

When you’re looking at this sign, Gate C2 is to your left, and the pet relief area is down a short hall to the right

If you’re going through the security line that debouches into the central terminal (with the wall of windows and the food court), find the pet relief area by turning right after security and walking past the Ex Officio store. Turn left at the Life is Good store. The pet relief area will be on your right, across from Gate C2 and down a very short hall. A door on your right opens onto a very small room equipped with the strip of AstroTurf from the old indoor pet relief area, a fake hydrant, and a trash can with clean-up supplies.

Another effort from my hard-working panorama app. Do not be fooled — the room is no more than, say, 8′ by 12′.

This is the third air-side pet relief area that I know of. The others are a new one at San Diego’s airport and a couple of magnificent ones at Washington’s Dulles airport. I hope the idea catches on, since it certainly saves pet owners (especially including owners of service animals, who are the main beneficiaries of the law that required U.S. airports to install pet relief areas) untold trouble. However, I hope airports look to Dulles rather than SAN or SEA for their model.

This post is part of an ongoing series of reviews of airport pet relief areas we’ve visited. To see others, visit Dog Jaunt’s handy guide to airport pet relief areas.

Jul 15 2013

Reader’s report: Phoenix to Madrid on American and Iberia with Louie the Bichon

Long ago, reader Ana asked if I had any suggestions for airlines that fly from Phoenix to Madrid and have planes that allow in-cabin dogs under their Business Class seats. Nothing came to mind (all I could do was warn her that often the higher-grade seats don’t accommodate pets, since the under-seat space is occupied by electronics boxes for fancy features), and I asked her to let me know what she learned.

She kindly wrote back with details about her trip. She and her husband and their pup Louie, a 14 lb. Bichon Frisée, opted to take an American flight (Economy class) from Phoenix to Miami, and then an Iberia flight (Business Plus) from Miami to Madrid. “My concern from the beginning was whether or not I would be allowed to take a pet in business class if there was a lie-flat seat because several airlines do not allow pets in business unless they are completely UNDER the seat in front. In the end, we chose Iberia because the seats in business class just reclined.”

Their American flight was “a non-event,” Ana told me. She didn’t mention what kind of plane she was on, but given her itinerary, I suspect it was a 737-800. “I had the middle seat in economy and my husband had the aisle. Our bichon slept through the 4 hour flight and although there wasn’t much room at my feet neither the flight attendants nor fellow passengers seemed to notice we had a dog.”

Photo by Iberia (pictured lady is a model)

The trip became more exciting when they boarded their Iberia flight (in all likelihood, an Airbus 340) and were “VERY surprised to discover that Iberia Business Plus has completely lie-flat seats!” I’ll let Ana take over:

“The seat in front of me was three feet away and there was no space to put anything UNDER the seat. I put the dog carrier in front of me on the floor, and I had a window seat so I felt he was somewhat protected from sliding around during the flight. The flight attendants were attentive and friendly and again, no one questioned me or even realized I was traveling with a dog. I’m not sure if this was unusual or if Iberia is just very relaxed about ‘securing’ luggage, bags, dog carriers, etc. On the one hand, if this had been a bumpy flight, the dog carrier would have been able to slide around into the aisle. But on the other hand I was thrilled to have tons of room and a truly ‘first class’ experience on Iberia Business Plus.”

When they arrived, “No one in Madrid asked to see any papers or the dog. After months of worry and planning, when I took Louie outside to go potty, I’m not sure which of us was more relieved! :)”

Ana ended with a charming story about traveling by train in France with Louie:

“At one point during our trip we took a train from Biarritz to Paris. Although I dutifully carried our bichon in his carrier, I panicked when the train attendant approached me with a stern look. ‘Madame!’ he said, ‘S’il vous plait, take your dog out of the carrier. Your dog can’t be comfortable and I’m sure he’d rather be on your lap looking out the window.’ (Lord, I love France!)”

Amen to that, Ana. Thanks so much for letting us know how the trip went — I’ve been curious about Iberia for a while, but had no expectation of traveling on it myself anytime soon. I’m adding this post to Dog Jaunt’s ongoing series recording under-seat plane measurements.