On Friday afternoon, Montpellier greeted us with a gorgeous 75 degree day. Roberto and I didn’t really notice and neither did the dogs. We were too exhausted. Our journey had begun 24 hours earlier in Austin.
Our lovely friend Lila offered to drive us to the airport and we accepted because an Uber would have made us put the dogs in their carriers, and we hated to do that even for an extra twenty minutes. We knew it was going to be a LONG journey for all of us.
We got out the door on time. Eight minutes into the drive I realized I had left my phone behind! So we turned around. I was in the back seat and I saw Roberto’s back stiffen as we headed back to the house. Roberto would like to be four hours early for every flight (and dinner party) but I tend to think two hours is fine. Today we had agreed on 2.5 (the first leg wasn’t international). I could see from the rigidity of his posture that next time it will be at least three.
I ran inside and grabbed my phone (I had left it plugged in so it would be 100% charged when we left 🙄). I leapt back into the car looking contrite but also saying loudly “It would have been so much worse if we were already at the airport.” Let’s not talk about the fact that our itinerary and train tickets were on the phone.
As we got out of the car at the airport, Roberto said, “Are you SURE you have everything? Phone? Wallet? Passport?”
“Of course.” I was indignant. Two seconds later I yelled, “My jacket!” I had left it in Lila’s car. This was not an auspicious beginning to our journey. I called her and luckily she was still exiting the airport. She got back on the loop and came back around. As we waited, I kept my back to Roberto so I didn’t have to look at his face. But I could FEEL his face. It was saying, “Are you some kind of moron?”
And the answer was “Yes. Yes, I am.”
The problem was that I was extremely anxious, and as anyone will tell you, when you fill 95% of your brain with anxiety there’s little room for other thought. When I am fretting, I tend to leave my keys in the door, forget to lock my car, or forget all my passwords. Or forget my f’ing phone and jacket.
If you have been a long time reader of this newsletter then you know that our first trip to France with the dogs in September was a bit of a nightmare. We were told at the first check-in (of three flights) that Woody couldn’t get on the plane. After we managed to get a higher-up manager to approve him, we sat on the runway for two hours. Rudy growled and barked because I had not given him enough anti-anxiety meds. Hot and miserable on the tarmac, Roberto and I had wondered how many other flights would reject Woody. He is small but long like a dachshund, so he looks like he won’t fit into his carrier. The ironic thing is that he is a fabulous traveler - he curls up and sleeps the whole time. Whereas Rudy, the smaller one who alarms no one, is high strung and miserable unless he is in my lap.
When we have the dogs with us, a lot of people in the airport want to talk to us about traveling with dogs. This is completely understandable, and I approached several people myself when I was contemplating it; however, when I am stressed and tired and worried about the next Woody rejection, I am not so great with the small talk. I want to blurt, “IT SUCKS, OKAY? NEVER, EVER DO IT. BETTER TO JUST GIVE YOUR DOGS AWAY.”
Dear reader, at the risk of cursing myself, I am admitting that this trip was much better than the last. And I am sorry to inform you that the improvement can be primarily attributed to one thing: we threw money at the problem.
Last time and this one we flew an incredible airline called La Compagnie. They only fly from Newark to Paris/Nice and the entire plane is business class. They allow dogs up to 30 pounds, so we know we won’t have to worry about them rejecting Woody. Plus, all the passengers seem to be traveling for pleasure, and I swear the flight attendants are nicer for not having to deal with businessmen flying on their company’s dime.
A La Compagnie round-trip New York to Paris ticket costs $1650. Right now the price of a United round trip to Paris ticket costs around $1000 for coach and $4000 for business, so La Compagnie is not as insane as it sounds. Every time we’ve flown them, they’ve allowed me to take Rudy out of his carrier and sleep in my lap*. La Compagnie is a true gem and is the reason we fly through Newark (for the love of God, why else would anyone fly to Newark?)
Knowing the Paris flight would be fine, my remaining stress was getting the dogs to New York. In September, the United flight almost rejected Woody. What if our savior Sharon wasn’t working that day? But I was unable to find another flight that went from Austin to Newark directly, and although I was loathe to take the risk, I rebooked the United flight.
WARNING, if you arrive at the airport and the airline rejects your dog(s) you will NOT receive a refund on that flight. It is considered your error for not properly weighing and measuring your pet and carrier. The annoying truth is that whether or not your dog gets on the plane is really up to the discretion of the person checking you in, and who knows what they have already dealt with that day. I mean, what is worse than working in the airline industry right now? Flying is more and more miserable each week - the seats are smaller, people are meaner and still reeling from Covid, and doors are flying off of Boeings left and right! If I had to interact with people all day at an airport I would be a board certified See You Next Tuesday.
After I booked the Newark flight, I noticed that they were offering me an upgrade to first class. Wait a minute. I had read that although no flights (except La Compagnie) let dogs fly in business, many allow pets in First Class.
I called United to confirm. The guy put me on hold for nearly thirty minutes but when he returned he said, “Yes. You can fly with dogs in First Class.” Cool. “How much would an upgrade be?” I asked. He put me on hold for another twenty minutes, during which I contemplated figures in my head - how much was this worth to me?
If we flew First Class I knew they would be much nicer to us at the check-in desk. I knew there would be more room under the seats in the plane for the dog carriers. I also guessed they would be much more likely to allow Rudy to sit in my lap. The value of these things in my head led to an amount of money that I am too embarrassed to share with you.
The United man returned to the call and said, “The upgrade will be $900.” Of course it is, I thought bitterly. $900 for us each, each way, and there was no way I could justify an extra $3600. But then he clarified that it would be $900 TOTAL. For both of us. For both outgoing and return flights. So $225 each per leg.
I didn’t even consult with Roberto. I just said, YES, WE WILL TAKE THEM AND ALL THE SYCOPHANTIC SERVICE THAT THEY IMPLY.
And I am here to tell you, it f’ing worked. The woman at the United check in counter didn’t even ask to see the dogs, let alone see them outside of their carriers. She simply reached into her desk and took out our glorious golden tickets: bright yellow tags for the carriers that say the dogs are cleared to fly.
I also got the dogs’ meds right this time. The vet who examined them for our paperwork recommended dosing Rudy the night before we left and then again three hours prior to going to the airport. Rudy was so calm he stayed in his carrier the whole way to New York without complaint!
I was also calmer this trip because I knew the dogs could hold their bladders and wouldn’t pee inside their carriers (a concern the first time we did the trip). Newark has pet relief areas outside every terminal. You head to baggage claim on the bottom floor, walk outside, and then walk as far right as possible. There is a little fenced in area with astroturf where they can pee and then run around if they need to!
Another big difference this time is that we checked no luggage and only traveled with carry-ons. This saved us from having to fetch and recheck luggage in Newark and Paris and meant we could head straight outside to let the dogs relieve themselves.
The other modification this trip was the decision to take the train from Paris to Montpellier instead of getting on the small one hour flight. This required Ubering from Orly airport to Paris Gare De Lyon train station, but we had plenty of time so it wasn’t stressful, and the dogs do just fine on the train. Confession: Rudy barfed on the train. But it was just a little and even with the puke it was a more pleasant trip than being stuck at Orly airport between flights with nowhere for the dogs to pee.
I assume the trip will get easier and easier as we know which flights to take, where the pet relief areas are in each airport, and the ideal drug dosage. However, I still have to wonder if I can handle doing this every three months. Frankly, it’s not great for my mental or physical state, the dogs’ health, our bank account, or my marriage. So perhaps we will switch to every six months so we only do this twice a year. And even then I will still yearn for the vet to prescribe ME some anti-anxiety meds.
Jusqu’à a prochaine fois! (until next time)
Carolyn & Roberto
*Just a head’s up that “Carolyn said we could do it” probably won’t mean a whole lot to the stewardess.
Brilliant plan !! Love the La Compagnie tip !!
Thank you for all of this info. Your schedule of "wintering" in the states will be my schedule as well so all of these tips are just gold. I fly with my terrier regularly now, but of course not internationally! In the US, there are "pet relief stations" inside of security. But taking the train after landing in Paris sounds like a superior option.