Travels with Willie

Willie in the car. The car is dirty because of Willie. I often joke that "Willie is the reason we can't have nice things." She eats furniture and likes to play in the mud. But in reality, I wouldn't trade all the nice things in the world for her company on a long car ride. 

Willie is my best friend and bosom companion. She shares my food, my home, my couch. 

My heart. 

"I don't go anywhere without my dog" is what I'm saying. This complicates my travel substantially. 

I mean — She's a great traveller. Car rides are easy. I stick her in the back seat with a rawhide and her blanket and she's happy as a clam.  We stop every few hours for a stretch-our-legs break. Road trips are ideal. 

I won't take her on a plane, though, and if I have to go anywhere that requires flying, I find her a babysitter. I haven't taken a trip requiring a flight since my split with her dad, who used to be my babysitter of choice. I'm not comfortable asking him to babysit now, and I can't leave her with just anyone. She's got some unusual behaviors that require a certain kind of personality to handle her. Until I figure this one out, I've ex-nayed travel requiring a flight.     

"Getting there" is only one problem. "Staying there" is a whole different animal. If I'm staying with a friend, I have to make sure Willie can't get into any trouble. That means no other dogs in the house and no really young children. Of course, I have to get permission from the friend before I make any kind of decision. Some might offer to let us stay out of politeness even if they're not comfortable with Willie.  In those cases, I book a hotel. A pet-friendly hotel. 

Willie's suitcase gets packed just like mine, and sometimes, she brings more than I do. She's got some specific dietary needs and she's on medication for her joint pain. She needs tennis balls, her leash, her harness, a collar. Plus, I bring a collapsible kennel that she stays in if I have to go out without her. Willie has a bad habit of snacking on furniture if she's left alone unkenneled. Altogether it takes up about half a trunk, maybe more. It's like playing Tetris to try and fit my small black suitcase in the remaining empty space. 

I find her company so pleasant as to ignore the inconvenience. I talk to her as we drive and sing with the radio. She never sings with me, but she doesn't tell me to shut up, either — a perfect companion.    

Who do you like to travel with? What do your pets do when you travel?