Dog Jaunt

Mar 18 2014

Dog jaunt: Another piece of Vancouver B.C.’s seawall, then back by bus

I finally fell in love with Vancouver, B.C. in 2011, when Chloe and I came to town on our own for a travel bloggers’ conference. A born introvert, I skipped the beginning of the conference for a ferry ride to Granville Island and a long walk with Chloe along the seawall around False Creek. Three years later, we’re back in town, and our hotel is right across the street from the conference center — and the beginning of the seawall.

Here’s a map of the whole seawall [PDF], a project begun in the early 20th c. to prevent the city’s glorious Stanley Park from eroding (nowadays, the term “seawall” refers generally to that structure, related structures, and the pathways atop them for cyclists and pedestrians). The seawall is a total of 22 km long, and today we walked the first 2.5 km of it.

The beginning of the seawall, just below the conference center (that building looming to the left). The cobbles/bricks are the pedestrian path; bikers have a separate, smooth path on the left. The blue sculpture in the distance is called "The Drop."

The beginning of the seawall, just below the conference center. The bricks are the pedestrian path; bikers have a separate, smooth path on the left. The blue sculpture in the distance is called “The Drop.”

We headed northwest from The Drop, and followed the waterfront all the way to and into Stanley Park. It was a grey day, but after 16 years in Seattle, grey doesn’t bother me (and I had the memory, too, of yesterday’s clear and bright weather — the views from the seawall across Burrard Inlet to North Vancouver and the mountains beyond were ridiculously lovely).

Looking north towards Stanley Park — a seaplane is accelerating towards takeoff over Coal Harbor.

Looking north, with Stanley Park and West Vancouver in the distance — in the near distance, a seaplane is about to take off over Coal Harbor.

The shack is a cast aluminum sculpture called "LightShed;" to the left of this picture is a good-sized park your (leashed) pup will enjoy

The shack on stilts is a cast aluminum sculpture called “LightShed;” to the left of this picture is a good-sized park your (leashed) pup will enjoy. For an off-leash park, keep walking (see below).

Just around the corner from The LightShed. Now I want to move to Vancouver and live in a tiny converted ferryboat.

Just a few minutes' walk beyond my ferryboats is the Devonian Harbour Park, with off-leash access (rules in the next picture). It looks a little bleak in this picture, but it's not, in real life.

Just a few minutes’ walk beyond my future ferryboat home is the Devonian Harbour Park, with off-leash access (rules in the next picture). It looks a little bleak in this picture, but it’s not, in real life.

Let your pup spend her off-leash energy here, before heading into Stanley Park — at the entrance to the park, you'll see signs telling you to keep your pup leashed, for the sake of the wildlife.

Let your pup run her extra energy off here, before heading into Stanley Park — at the entrance to the park, you’ll see signs telling you to keep your pup leashed, for the sake of the wildlife.

By the time we reached the park, I was ready to head back to the hotel for lunch and a nap, and I was ready to do it by bus (a sore disappointment to Chloe, who could happily have continued). Vancouver allows small pets in carriers on all of its public transit options except HandyDART, and we’d set off with Chloe’s messenger bag over my shoulder. I’d also equipped myself with a packet of 10 Faresaver tickets ($21 for Zone 1, which covers most areas you’d want to reach during a short visit). You can find the packets at newsstands — the third one I tried, a kiosk in the Waterfront station on Water St., had them in stock (be sure to ask, too, for a metro transit map). Each ticket, therefore, costs $2.10, but they last for an hour and a half after they’re first validated, so you can take a couple of trips on each. Tear out a ticket, and validate it in the machine by the conductor as you board.

To find the bus, you'll need to leave the waterfront and head into the park — the Lord Stanley monument is a good landmark to head for.

To find the #19 bus, you’ll need to leave the waterfront and head into the park — the Lord Stanley monument is a good landmark to look for.

One end of the #19 bus route [PDF] is a convenient spot in Stanley Park, about 200 metres north of the Lord Stanley monument. Walking north (past the statue’s coattails), you’ll see the Stanley Park Pavilion — continue past it (we ended up walking through its parking lot) and you’ll soon come to the bus stop. Here’s a detailed map of the park [PDF]. The #19 heads out of the park on Georgia St., and then angles left on Pender St. We hopped off at Howe to return to the conference center, but the route continues to Chinatown, turning right (south) on Main Street, and next time we’ll stay on to investigate that neighborhood. (It’s tricky to tell from the little transit map, but #19 continues far to the south and east, ending up at the Metrotown station.) We’ll also take the bus in the other direction, into Stanley Park, saving our energy for a walk around its edge.

For other posts about traveling with dogs on public transit, take a look at Dog Jaunt’s handy guide!

Mar 14 2014

Photo Friday: Scoop law sign from University Place, WA

Part of me applauds this scoop law sign, found in a town/neighborhood just southwest of Tacoma and sent in by alert reader Chandler — it’s uncluttered, it gets the point across, and it dodges the ever-vexing question of how to represent dog poop graphically (and yet not graphically, if you get my meaning):

The other part of me — the one I try to keep tied up in a sack — looks at that sign and sees a really gigantic ice cube going into a really gigantic cocktail glass. That’s the trouble with posting these photos on a Friday….

What a magnificent view the sign has, by the way:

I'm not sure which direction Chandler was facing when she took this photo — that could be one of three different Puget Sound islands in the distance. The weather, alas, is entirely characteristic for this time of year….

I’m not sure which direction Chandler was facing when she took this photo — there are four different Puget Sound islands off Chambers Creek Park. The weather, alas, is entirely characteristic for this time of year.

Thanks to Chandler for this fine addition 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.

Mar 10 2014

Reader’s report: Medium Teafco Argo Petascope carrier on a Delta 767 plane

The Teafco Argo Petascope is a handsome carrier, but long ago I’d decided that only the small size would work in-cabin — and at 18″L x 10.5″W x 9″H, it’s too small for Chloe. A friend of Dog Jaunt’s though, reported on Twitter that she’d traveled successfully on a Delta 767 with Hondo, her mixed-breed pup, in a medium-sized Petascope (23″L x 11.5″W x 11.5″H). She kindly agreed that I could post her picture and info on Dog Jaunt:

Medium Petascope, aisle seat in Economy, on a Delta 767

Delta has a variety of Boeing 767s in its fleet, but they generally have seven seats in each row in Economy — two pairs on each side, and a trio in the middle. @TheReelLi was sitting in an “aisle seat in the middle section in coach,” and, based on her picture, it was an E seat (with the aisle to her right).

The available under-seat space is likely not a full 11.5″ tall, since she noted that “The carrier does flex a bit in height.” She also pointed out that a couple of the Petascope’s 23 inches in length are taken up by a fabric awning: “The silly fabric flap adds 2 visual inches. It stuck out a bit, but no one seemed to care.” That leaves a carrier that’s essentially 21″ long — noticeably longer than Chloe’s large SturdiBag (18″ long), but the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and @TheReelLi says all went well. Here’s a shot of her pup Hondo at the airport, poking his head out for a scratch:

This was Hondo’s first plane trip, and it was a smash success — “he was silent the entire time! Oh yeah!”

As you can see in this photo, the top of the Petascope is solid. I prefer a mesh panel on top, so I can see down into my pet’s carrier — and ideally a panel with a hatch in it, so I can also reach in easily with pats, treats and ice cubes. There are large mesh panels on each long side of the carrier, however, and the door is mesh too, so I have no concerns about ventilation (please note that Teafco also makes the Argo Aero-Pet carrier, which has significantly smaller mesh panels — it’s for tiny pets, but still, I can’t love it).

I should note, too, that the Petascope does not include straps through which you can pass a car’s seatbelt. Your best option for securing the carrier in a car is the handle — sneak the head of the seatbelt through it, and do what you can to spread the belt across/around the carrier. That said, the Petascope is a well-built carrier, and a stylish one too. It comes in a range of cheerful colors, but given its size, I urge you to buy it the slimming charcoal/black @TheReelLi selected.

Amazon link: Teafco Argo Petascope Carrier, Medium

Thanks so much to @TheReelLi for sharing her photo and the encouraging news that a carrier this size works on a Delta 767 (and in Economy class, too!). I hope this is just the first of many great trips you and Hondo take together. I’m adding this to Dog Jaunt’s ongoing series of posts recording airplane under-seat measurements, and I’m tagging it so it appears in Dog Jaunt’s ever-growing collection of pictures of carriers deployed under plane seats.

Feb 21 2014

Reader’s report: Pet relief area at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport (STL) — Terminal 2

Reader Ahmé last wrote to us with details about the under-seat spaces she and Thomas (her Miniature Schnauzer, traveling in a large SturdiBag) encountered on a couple of different Delta flights. She kindly wrote again last fall, after she and Thomas had visited a pet relief area at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport.

According to the airport’s website, STL has two pet relief areas, both located outdoors (and therefore requiring you to exit and then re-enter the secured area):

“Each relief area offers 400 square feet of gated space with park benches, trash cans, plastic mitts for cleanup and even fire hydrants. Terminal 1’s animal rest area is located on the upper level, west end, outside exit 6. The Terminal 2 animal relief area is located outside exit 15.”

Ahmé and Thomas were traveling on Southwest, so I believe they visited the Terminal 2 pet relief area. To find it, follow the signs to baggage claim. Once you reach the lower, arrivals area and are facing the airport roadway, exit and turn right. The pet relief area is on the right-hand side of the building — here’s a view of its location from across the roadway, looking back at baggage claim:

The Terminal 2 pet relief area is just beyond and behind the second of the two yellow Parking Spot vans (thanks to Google Maps for this view)

And here’s Ahmé’s picture of the pet relief area:

As you can see, it’s fairly small, and the grass is tired. Ahmé noted that it’s right next to “a large area of beautiful grass” — all the more appealing as at least five previous pet owners had failed to pick up after their dogs (despite “great signage about cleaning up after your dog, a really nice garbage can and plastic bags provided”). “Why would I not just use that?” she asked, and I don’t have a good answer for her. Do pick up after your pup, wherever you end up letting her go — not that Dog Jaunt readers would ever be anything other than courteous.

Speaking of courtesy, thanks so much to Ahmé for sharing her photo! If any of you visit the other STL pet relief area, outside Terminal 1, please send me a photo and let me know how challenging it is to find. I’m 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.

Feb 17 2014

Indoor pet relief area at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport: The saga continues

Seattle’s airport is one of a handful of U.S. airports that offers travelers with dogs a pet relief area on the air side of security, meaning that you don’t have to exit the airport and return through security to give your dog a bathroom break. It has changed appearance over the past couple of years, and for a few months shifted locations, and my post about it became increasingly baroque with cross-outs and amendments. Now it’s back in its original location, and it’s time for a new post, with new photos.

To find the indoor pet relief area at SEA, make your way from any of the concourses to the Central Terminal and, specifically, the Pacific Marketplace — you’ll recognize it by the massive wall of windows and the cluster of restaurants and shops (including an extremely convenient Ex Officio shop). Directly across from the Hudson Booksellers shop (Vino Volo is also a good landmark), you’ll see a round, illuminated pet relief area sign on the wall:

Standing where I am, looking at the front of the Hudson’s, the pet relief area is behind me, over my right shoulder

The sign for the pet relief area — just beyond it, you see the hallway you’d use to exit the secured area. Don’t do that! Instead, walk down the short hallway I’m standing next to.

Here's a more useful (but equally blurry — we're all running!) picture from reader Gery — the pet relief area is down the nearer hallway, past the vending machines

Here’s a more useful picture from reader Gery — the pet relief area is down the nearer hallway, past the vending machines

A short hallway leads to a small, brightly-lit room:

Another blurry photo — alas, too often I'm taking these shots on the run

Another blurry photo, alas — as is so often the case, I took these shots on the run

Be cautious around those doors at the far end — they’re alarmed, and you don’t want to jostle them

Another good shot from reader Gery, and you can see that when he and Alfie were there, the hallway sign was inside the room, and poop bags were provided (but there were no paper towels) — things change from day to day

As you can see, it’s minimal. That roll of Astroturf has seen a lot of use over the years, and is now an unpleasant object. Chloe will pee on it, but only reluctantly. There is a trash can, and there are some paper towels — often your best option for picking up poop, since poop bags aren’t always provided.

It’s perhaps no worse than most other indoor airport pet relief areas — the San Diego, Minneapolis, Dallas, and Pittsburgh airports have equally minimal indoor pet relief areas, and Salt Lake City has a very basic outdoor air-side pet relief area — but it falls sadly short of the standard set by the indoor pet relief areas at Washington’s Dulles airport.

Please note that Seatac also has two outdoor pet relief areas, one to the far left as you exit the baggage claim area, and the other a stiff hike to the far right, but visiting either spot will require you to return through security.

Thanks so much to reader Gery for the photos and for the kick in the pants — it would have taken me even longer, without you, to post this update. 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.

Jan 31 2014

More recommendations for English-speaking veterinarians in Paris

It’s a bit tricky to identify English-speaking veterinarians in Paris, so I’ve been posting names as I’ve learned them, and now I have two more to add to your list.

Rather than make you search for my past posts on the topic, I’ll recap: Back in August 2009, I told you about Dr. Pierre Métivet, and a year later I mentioned La Boetie Clinique Vétérinaire (which I think now has the clever name Clinique Vétérinaire Labo & Cie, but is still located at 15 rue la Boétie). The latter was recommended by reader Jessica, but until recently I had only Internet reviews for Dr. Métivet. Fellow blogger Gigi Griffis told me in October, though, that she’d taken her pup Luna to Dr. Métivet, and liked him very much. She also reported that his English was very good — so useful, because even if you can get around comfortably in French, you may not have at your fingertips the vocabulary that’s needed for a vet visit.

Despite knowing about Dr. Métivet, I went instead to Dr. Eric McCarthy, a veterinarian in the Saint-Germain-des-Prés neighborhood, to get Chloe’s E.U. pet passport. That was partly because his office was on our way to another stop we planned to make that afternoon, and partly because reader Jenna — who kindly invited me and Chloe to have breakfast with her and Tara, her French Bulldog, in their stunning Airbnb rental — recommended him to me. His name suggested that he might be a native English speaker, and since I wanted to ask him complicated questions about the pet passport, that too was appealing.

It turns out that despite his name, Dr. McCarthy is utterly, utterly French — but we were still very pleased with our choice. He speaks good English, and he couldn’t have been kinder to Chloe. Normally, she starts trembling as soon as she realizes she’s at a vet’s office, but she never did at Dr. McCarthy’s. He treated her very gently, and showered her with treats. Dr. McCarthy’s nurse’s English isn’t as good as his, so I recommend stopping in to make your appointment, rather than calling. She was, however, kind and cheerful — and at Dr. McCarthy’s request, she nobly called a long list of other Paris vets to locate a new bag of Chloe’s t/d kibble (Dr. McCarthy’s office carries Hill’s Prescription Diet products, and she could have ordered it for me, but I only noticed at the last moment that Chloe was running low).

Here’s the link to his website, and here’s his contact info: Dr. Eric McCarthy; 37 boulevard Saint-Germain, Paris 75005 [nearest métro stop: Maubert-Mutualité]. His e-mail address is [email protected] and his telephone number is 01-43-54-40-01. His fax number is 01-43-54-33-58.

The other name I have for you is VetoAdom, which provides 24-hour emergency service at your home (or rental). We didn’t need their services, thank goodness, but blogger Heather Stimmler-Hall reports that they did a good job of fixing her pup’s cut paw, and recommends them.

One last tip for you: The word “vétérinaire” can be tough to say correctly, especially before coffee. A lady in our Montmartre neighborhood, who befriended me after we and our dogs kept meeting (early in the morning, before coffee), kindly told me that it’s normal to say “véto” instead — which is significantly more manageable.

Jan 29 2014

PetEgo’s Pet Tube: An update on how to install it

Last July, I wrote a post praising PetEgo’s Pet Tube, the car safety solution we’d newly adopted for Chloe. We still use it, and I like it just as much as ever — slightly more so, in fact, now that I’ve learned how to install it properly.

Yes, that break-through discovery (“In an accident, if the hanging straps were cinched short enough, the Pet Tube would swing up and forward without hitting the passenger seat in front of Chloe”) was all wrong. I have reader Terri to thank for setting me straight. As you’ll see in a comment on that post, she sent me a link to a video review of the Pet Tube by DorsetDog.com — and in it, at the 1:30 mark, Dorset Dog shows you how it’s done.

Instead of shortening the straps and looping them over your car seat’s headrest, you lengthen them and pass them around the back of your car’s passenger seat. In my defense, I direct your attention to this very misleading photo by PetEgo, and I’d also like to point out that the accompanying video is heavy on the sensual caressing of the Pet Tube and light — very light indeed — on details about how to install it.

Photo by PetEgo

But never mind. Live and learn! Onwards, and also upwards! Our focus is now on correct installation of the Pet Tube, and you’ll need to release the car seat’s lock and tilt the seat forward to do that — and be sure to secure the strap that’s closer to the center of the car first, before securing the strap closer to the door.

It’s an awkward business — keep part of your mind on your nose, ears, and glasses frames while you’re poking the head of the strap through the seat crease, and pulling one end of the strap up to meet the clasp on its other end — but after a brief wrestle, the straps will be in place, one on each side of the head rest and neither interfering with your car seat’s locking mechanism:

View of the back of the seat, still tilted forward, with the straps secured around it but not yet cinched tight

Seat locked back into place, straps cinched up snugly

Same view, but a from a step back, so you can see the tube part

My Dorset Dog colleague secured his straps entirely in the back, closing the clips and the extra strap pieces in the rear of his vehicle, and it would look tidier like that — but I like having the clips accessible. It’s nice to be able to give the straps a tightening tug when they need it, without having to unlock the seat (both seats, in fact, since in my car you have to unlock the driver’s-side back seat before you can unlock the passenger’s-side back seat). If you rotate the clips to a lower position than they’re shown in that last photo, the extra strap length tucks nicely out of sight behind the tube.

Proof that this actually is the right way to install the Pet Tube is in this last photo, showing Chloe’s side “windows” nicely horizontal:

Also, both of the Velcro strips can now be used to stabilize the Comfort Pillow — oh yes, the evidence is there

Also, both of the Velcro strips on the wall of the tube can now be used to stabilize the Comfort Pillow — oh yes, the evidence is there

As I mentioned in my update to the post I wrote last year, we used the Pet Tube for more than six months wrongly installed, and were quite content with it. I don’t believe it’s unsafe used that way, and it certainly is easier to move from one car to another if the straps are merely hooked over the headrest. On the other hand, secured around the seat back, the Pet Tube doesn’t budge — and it can be installed even in cars without headrests.

My thanks again to Terri for the gentle nudge towards accuracy — how grateful I am to Dog Jaunt’s readers!

Jan 27 2014

New car harness for dogs: Sleepypod’s Clickit Utility harness

As I mentioned in a post last July, I replaced Chloe’s first car safety solution (a combination of the medium-sized Snoozer Lookout car booster seat and a harness-and-belt that she wore while in it) with the Pet Tube from PetEgo, about 24 hours after I watched a series of videos filmed by the Center for Pet Safety, showing what happens to a crash-test dummy of a Boxer wearing a number of safety harnesses/tethers (makers unidentified) in a 50 mph crash.

We’ve been very happy with the Pet Tube, and it works well, too, as a travel solution, since it can be collapsed into a fairly compact pancake and packed in a suitcase. However, it’s still bulkier than the harness-and-belt that we originally used on road trips away from home, and I missed having that minimal alternative — especially on trips where I didn’t know if there would be car travel at the other end, and wanted to pack a just-in-case safety solution.

Enter Sleepypod, maker of the Sleepypod Air pet carrier, the Yummy food/water bowl set, and other good-quality pet travel products: They announced that they were releasing a new dog car harness that would protect pets “in the same frontal crashes that ensure the effectiveness of child safety restraints, the Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 213” (which turn out to be at 30 mph). As soon as the Clickit harness was available, I ordered one, and now I’ve had a chance to try it out on Chloe. Please note that I paid full price for my Clickit harness; I will always let you know when someone else has paid for, or given me a favorable price on, a product I review.

The long version follows below; the short version is that the Clickit harness works well in the car, but did not work at all as a walking harness. I loved the sturdy construction of all three pieces, and as you can see in this photo, Chloe was unfazed by their weight and by how thoroughly they attached her to the car. I’ll keep using the PetTube, mainly, since it’s easier to get her into and out of, but I’ll keep a Clickit harness set in my husband’s car, and I’ll pack one on those trips when we might travel in a car (or when I know we’ll travel in a car and my packing space is limited).

Shortly after this photo was taken, she fell asleep

I was initially daunted by the size and weight of the harness. I ordered the Extra Small size for Chloe, after measuring her as directed by Sleepypod on the Clickit page (tape measure looped around her neck and chest in a figure-8), and the assemblage I received (harness and two side straps) weighs 1 lb. 4 oz. Each piece is solidly constructed of quality materials, and I wondered whether it would all be too much for a 13-lb. dog. It was no walk in the park, either, to adjust the harness to fit or to shorten the side straps. Happily, Sleepypod has posted a video that helps, particularly with the harness fitting (the separate side straps are another matter — I ended up just fiddling with them until they were shorter).

Where the video left me uneasy, though, was in its use of a plush-toy German Shepherd as the model — for one thing, Chloe has long hair, and I worried that it would be caught and pulled, especially by the seat belt, as it passes through the two back straps. Also, that plush-toy GSD is a very tranquil creature indeed, while Chloe is a girl who likes to participate in what’s happening to her — how would it all work with a real dog?

Here’s our video, showing, first, the installation of the two side straps in a car (in this case, my in-laws’ Chrysler mini-van), then the installation of the harness on Chloe, and then the connecting of harnessed Chloe to the car:

Two things to mention: I misspeak in the video when I am telling you about attaching the side straps to the sides of Chloe’s harness. Instead of facing “upwards,” the hooks should in fact face “downwards,” so the active part is away from your dog’s fur. I actually got it right on her right side, as you can (barely) see in this photo:

Clip facing away from Chloe’s side

Also, Sleepypod wisely includes a card that covers the main points of harness fitting and installation, and I suggest that you keep it with your harness kit for quick reference, especially when you’re out of YouTube range. It and the harness pieces will fit nicely in a gallon-sized Ziploc bag.

You’ve already seen a photo of the happy ending: Chloe absolutely did not mind all the gear (despite that yawn halfway through the video), nor did she mind the seat belt through the back of her harness. As I’ve said, I approve heartily of the pieces’ construction (the padding on the chest part of the harness will bring a tear to your eye, and the straps have the same massive metal clips and seat-belt-like construction that delighted me in our old PetBuckle strap).

That black strap doesn't actually go around her leg — it's just the excess length of the side strap that's flopped onto her

That black strap doesn’t actually go around her right leg — it’s just the excess length of the side strap that’s flopped onto her

The part that did not work for us was using the harness as a walking harness. The idea is an appealing one — for short jaunts especially, why bother taking the harness off your pup? Why not just clip a leash onto it and go?

Two reasons, it turns out. The first is that the leash clip is on the collar part of the harness, so you’re restraining your dog by her neck. I choose not to do that with Chloe; since Cavaliers as a breed are prone to syringomyelia, a dreadful ailment, I do everything I can to take pressure off her neck. Second, if you leave the back straps long enough to allow the seat belt to pass through them, the harness dangles away from your dog’s chest when she walks around in it — to the point, for Chloe, that one or the other front leg worked out of it within just a few steps, and she was prevented from walking comfortably:

Right leg all the way out of the harness, and you can see in this picture, too, how the leash attaches at the collar

A Sleepypod rep may be reading this and shaking his/her head, thinking that I left the harness’s back straps too long, but I swear I didn’t. As you can see in the video, the seat belt just passed through them, and I verified that there wasn’t extra slack. In any event, not being able to use the harness for walking is by no means a deal-breaker: It’s a pity not to take advantage of the clever Velcro strap Sleepypod includes to silence the parts that would otherwise clank together during a walk, but it isn’t hard to remove your pup from the harness.

One last source of concern are those latch bars. My in-laws’ van has two of them per seat, and they’re nicely visible (which is why their car appears in the video). My own car has two of them per seat, but you have to dig around in the seat crease to find them — like you did in the old days to find seat belt bits. Older cars, however, may lack latch bars (and some cars that aren’t so old, too, like my mother-in-law’s Lincoln sedan). If your car doesn’t have them, Sleepypod suggests that you consider having them installed, and provides a link with info about how that can be done.

The Clickit harness has been tested for dogs up to 75 lbs. How small can a dog be and wear one? I believe that Chloe is about as small as you can go, given that I cinched the collar as tightly as it would go before it fit her. Sleepypod has a picture of a Dachshund wearing the Clickit, which makes sense to me — Dachshunds have shorter legs than Chloe, but their neck circumferences are comparable. Chloe’s neck is just over 10″ in circumference; if your pup has a thinner neck, the Clickit is probably not for you (for smaller dogs, Sleepypod suggests one of its carriers).

Dec 27 2013

Photo Friday: Chloe taking the waters at Royal Tunbridge Wells

We ended our recent vacation in Paris with a trip to England. Our main goal was to cross the Chunnel in both directions with a pet dog, so we earmarked only a week for the jaunt — not long enough, really, to do more than burrow into a cozy hotel in Kent and take a couple of day trips.

We chose Royal Tunbridge Wells as our base of operations and, specifically, the dog-friendly Hotel du Vin. As Mount Pleasant House, it had been a favorite vacation spot of the Duchess of Kent and her daughter, Princess (eventually Queen) Victoria. Now it’s a hotel and restaurant, and it’s very pleasant indeed — pet dogs are welcome everywhere but the restaurant (meaning, specifically, that Chloe was welcome in the cheery tea parlor and across the hall in the profoundly cozy bar, and the staff smiled benignly as we walked with her from one to the other and up the stairs to our room). We alternated eating with walks through the large park behind the hotel (the former grounds of the house) and through the streets of this elegant spa town.

Chloe in front of the chalybeate spring, the reason Tunbridge Wells became crazily popular in the 18th century (and was given the “Royal” prefix). Behind me is “The Pantiles,” a pair of long promenades. The colonnaded Upper Walks were reserved for the gentry, leaving the hoi polloi to jostle along on the Lower Walks. Both are equally charming nowadays — a bit quiet in early November, but the shops and restaurants must bustle in the warm weather.

Chloe was also welcome at Hall’s Bookshop, a wonderful used book store. She could not come in to Juliets Cafe with us, but the weather was just mild enough for a handful of sidewalk tables. Warmed by Chloe in my lap and a steady supply of hot tea, I was able to give the superb food (the window packed with desserts will stop you in your tracks, but they also offer great soups, stews, and salads) the attention it deserves.

Chloe the Headless Dog, with me on the second floor of Hall’s Bookshop

Our other recommendation from this quick trip is Knole House, only a short drive away and one of the greatest of England’s stately homes. The house itself is not dog-friendly, but the grounds are, and they go on forever. Dogs are required to be leashed, and for good reason — Knole has been a deer park since God was young, and you wouldn’t want to tangle with the herd (“descendants of those hunted by Henry VIII and Elizabeth I”). Guided walks are offered, and the park’s page has links to four self-guided walks. If we’d had just one more day, and boots to handle fall/winter muck, I would certainly have taken us all on the walk from Knole to Ightham Mote and back (especially since your leashed pup can join you on the patio of the Mote Restaurant). I didn’t see any warnings on the National Trust’s page for Knole about deer ticks, but better safe than sorry: Dose your pup with Frontline Plus, and check her and yourselves carefully for any stowaways.

Dec 17 2013

What it looks like: Chloe’s new E.U. pet passport

One of the souvenirs we returned with from our recent vacation was an official E.U. pet passport for Chloe. I call it a “souvenir” because it doesn’t really count, in our case — we are not European Union residents, nor are we residents of “one of the neighbouring countries where the rabies status matches that of the EU. This includes: Andorra, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Monaco, Norway, San Marino, Switzerland and the Vatican City State.” I look forward to the day when we fit into the other category of folks who have a real reason to own a pet passport (“I am a non-EU citizen but I will live in the EU with my pet for several years”), but that day has not yet arrived. [1/31/14 That said, our vet tech — who handles a lot of international paperwork for traveling dogs — told me recently that one of her clients, a U.S. citizen and resident, goes to France constantly with just an E.U. pet passport. Next time, I think I’ll fill out both options, and see how it goes with the pet passport — holding my usual American-style paperwork in reserve.]

No, I got a pet passport for Chloe partly because I wanted to see what the process was like, for the sake of telling you about it, and partly because we planned to visit the U.K., and I thought the U.K. customs officials might be more comfortable with a pet passport than with Chloe’s international paperwork. Officially, that wasn’t at all necessary: As it says in Note E (on p. 4) of the health certificate we got for Chloe, “The certificate is valid for 10 days from the date of issue by the official veterinarian until the date of the checks at the EU travellers’ point of entry and for the purpose of further movements within the Union, for a total of 4 months from the date of issue of this certificate or until the date of expiry of the anti-rabies vaccination, whichever date is earlier.”

In an earlier post, I shared with you scans of the paperwork Chloe needed to enter France with us (which included the health certificate mentioned above; a copy of Chloe’s current rabies vaccination certificate; and a statement that Chloe’s microchip was implanted on X date, and that Chloe’s rabies vaccine was given subsequent to that implantation, on Y date). We ensured that we had the current versions of the forms by getting them from the USDA/APHIS site, we worked with our vet to get them filled out correctly, and I drove them to our local USDA office to be endorsed. I guarded the resulting packet as carefully as I did my own passport, and made a couple of color copies in case some official wanted to keep a set. As on our last trip, no one showed the slightest interest in inspecting Chloe’s papers at CDG, but I was grateful to have them because (1) you know that if I hadn’t, we would have been met by fleets of officials, uniformed and armed to the teeth, demanding her forms in triplicate; and (2) we planned to spend the last week of our vacation in England, and the Chunnel authorities would certainly expect to see paperwork for her, in one form or another.

We made two appointments with a veterinarian in Paris (I’ll give you more info about him and another English-speaking Parisian vet in a separate post), one to get Chloe’s pet passport, and the other to get the tapeworm treatment the U.K. requires. On both visits, the vet gave Chloe a general exam — the first one was thorough, like her usual annual exam, and the second (only a couple of weeks later) was more brief. During our first visit, the information in Chloe’s paperwork was transferred to her new pet passport, and the vet made a note that Chloe was in good health. At the end of our second trip, he added notes that Chloe had received her tapeworm treatment, and was still in good health. Information about filling out an E.U. pet passport is provided in this helpful U.K. document.

Here’s what we walked away with, at the end of that process:

Page 1 asked for my address; it was okay to put down the address of our rental apartment, and there were plenty of spaces left for subsequent address changes

Pages 2-3: Please note that the date of Chloe’s chip implantation is written European-style, with the day preceding the month. I’ve only just now realized that the chip implantation date is wrong. How did I miss that?? It ended up not being an issue (if there had been a problem, you would have heard about it long before now), but I’ll be getting that entry fixed when we next return to Europe.

Pp. 4-5, with information about Chloe’s rabies vaccination (including manufacturer, name, and lot number). Pp. 6-9 are the same. What you may not be able to tell from these scans is that the vet used black ink on pp. 1-3, but his entries on p. 4 and elsewhere in the passport are all made with blue ink, which is a requirement.

Pp. 10-11: Pages we didn't need to use, since a rabies titer wasn't needed.

Pp. 10-11: Not used, since a rabies titer wasn’t required.

Pp. 12-13: Not used, because tick treatment was not required. Pp. 14-15 are the same.

Page 16: Details about Chloe’s tapeworm treatment. Please note that the time it was administered is included.

The first pages in an insert that can be used to record the results of a pet’s annual exams

Pp. 20-21: Places to record other vaccinations. Pp. 22-23 are the same.

Pp. 24-25, showing Chloe’s two exams and verifying that she was in good health. Pp. 26-27 are the same.

Pp. 28-29, re legalization (not an issue at this time)

Pp. 30-31, for additional notes

We were very nearly late for our train to England, so I was glad to arrive at the Pet Control Point with a document that didn’t require any explanation. I also enjoyed feeling like a local for a week or two, carrying Chloe’s little blue pet passport in my purse. As I mentioned above, however, it’s not officially the right document for someone in my shoes. For future trips to Europe, the correct thing to do is gather together the same documents (health certificate and supporting statements from our veterinarian) that we assembled this time. That said, if we plan to visit another E.U. country besides the one we enter initially, I’ll bring the pet passport too (and get it corrected).