We can do it. That was my mantra the week before my B.C. holiday. I’ve been out west a few times, but this time was different: It would be my first trip with Everly, my 18-month-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. I’ve enjoyed the freedom of dog-free travel, with its multi-course meals in well-reviewed restaurants. But the truth was, I missed Everly and Everly missed me, and I said I would never leave her behind again.
So I planned Everly’s big adventure – a trip over March break that broadened Everly’s life, evolved her personality and expanded her skills in a way that staying at home without me would never have done. It was full of beachcombing, puddle-jumping, and salty shore licks on Vancouver Island. We hiked boardwalks, bridges, mossy forests, and rocky, steep trails in Squamish.
It took weeks of preparation to make the journey from flight to rental car to ferry, yet there were still surprises. Here’s what I learned along the way.
Choose your airline
Every airline has a different pet policy. I had read good things about Air Canada and their panache for pooches. I went over their size and weight requirements on their website, then called the airline to announce she was coming. After an upcharge of $100 so she could sit at my feet in the cabin, we were booked.
What to bring
I researched the best carrier bags and bought a Sherpa Original Deluxe Airline Approved pet carrier from my local pet store. It is sized large, soft-sided for flexibility, and has a useful trolley sleeve that allows it to sit on top of your luggage.
What do you put on a dog’s packing list? A jacket, sweater, raincoat, two leashes, harness, food to last a few days, treats, a doggy seat belt for the car rental, bath towel, collapsible bowl, her vaccine record, and a small bed for the dog-friendly accommodations.
I also brought a king-size bed sheet. You never know when you need a spare sheet to cover someone else’s furniture.
Dogs may find it taxing to sleep in unfamiliar places with new daily routines, but Everly got the hang of it.
Practice makes perfect
Even if your dog is crate trained as a puppy, being on a plane with other travellers is unexplored territory. To get your dog used to a new sleep pod, high-value treats can do the trick. It took 15 minutes for my food-motivated baby to associate the Sherpa with an upscale pied-à-terre.
She went for rides on the passenger seat floor of my car, and to get her familiar with being in her carrier on top of my luggage, we wheeled around the house.
Airlines may test your dog’s ability to turn around in its carrier. (If the carrier is deemed too small, the pet can be denied travel.) Everly was whip-smart, but how would she handle being coaxed to turn a trick on command in a noisy airport? I did not think that would happen to us, but we practiced turning around too.
Everly was politely curious about Air Canada’s pet relief area at Pearson, but did not relieve herself there.
Travel day
In retrospect, I would not choose an early morning flight: I got Everly up, fed, pooped, peed and exercised, all before 4 a.m.
Getting through the airport was no walk in the park. At the ticket counter, the attendant asked for Everly to turn around in the carrier. She was tired and ready for a big airplane nap, but I took out her favourite treat and she turned around like a show dog.
After marching through security with Everly in my arms, we found Pearson Airport’s pet relief area — a patch of artificial turf and a red plastic fire hydrant – to try for one last tinkle.
By the time I reached my seat I was drenched with sweat.
The flight attendant knew to expect us and was ready to give me the rules: No taking your pup out of its carrier but you can reach down and pet your pooch. And in an emergency you can take your pet with you. Finally, I sank into my seat.
I worried Everly might get a whiff of the mac and cheese being served so I made a conscious decision to eat nothing on the plane. Even opening an innocent pretzel package on board could be triggering.
Our ferry to the island had a pet area where Everly and my daughter could see the sea.
Road trip
At car rentals, the Budget man took one look at me and said, “We are going to upgrade you.” Is this guy serious? I didn’t want an upgrade, I wanted a downgrade, a low-grade, a b-grade. I’m travelling with my white, heavy-shedding dog. I don’t want leather seats. Please give me the cheapest, oldest, beat-up car that is available.
But he handed me keys to a black Audi Q3. Either he was confident I would return it in excellent condition after nine days, or thought I was a sucker.
The bed sheet I tucked into my luggage was a brilliant move. I draped the entire back seat with it and cut a one-inch hole to attach her seat belt. We continued to the ferry to take us to the island, and I texted a dear friend, exhaling: We did it.
