Travel Gone to the Dogs

Travel has gone to the dogs.

I recently took a flight to southern California and there were not one, but two dogs on board. They might have been terrific traveling companions for their owners, but not so much for a guy like me, who is allergic to dogs. In other words, my ideal seatmate doesn’t drink from a toilet. So I took the furthest seat away, clutching Benadryl, just in case.

That strategy worked fine and I miraculously arrived at my destination four hours later without bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. I got my luggage, rented a car and negotiated the busy highways around Los Angeles for about an hour before arriving at my hotel. Weary from the trip, I checked in, got my key and headed up the elevator to my room. When the doors opened, I started to exit, only to feel a presence in my path. So I excused myself … to a dog.

When I finally got around the dog and to my room, I checked my Twitter feed to see what I had missed back home. I was surprised to learn that the minor league baseball team in my hometown was hosting a night for some very important visitors … dogs. (I bet you don’t have much chance of beating a Labrador retriever to a foul ball).

It was then that it hit me. Dogs lead pretty rich lives these days, compared to my pet goldfish. They are flying, staying in hotels and attending baseball games. I liked it better when they stayed in their own backyards. But I guess I’m doggone old fashioned.