May 15, 2008


A Trans-Atlantic Doggy Tale

We have the best lones (lone-ess) ever.

A lones is a dog.

His name has evolved over time. It began by Señor CC calling him crazy-pants two-plus years ago when he was younger and, well, more crazy and we were in Houston. Then for a while there I found it HI-larious to call him just plain old pants. I have no idea why.

When we arrived in Spain, I explained that in Spanish, pants would be pantalones. More specifically, since Cooper is so short, he would be pantalones cortos. Señor CC has (had?) quite a knack for butchering the español, and he immediately mispronounced the name as Pantalones Cortéz. This became Cooper's alter ego. You know, the one that got grumpy when we bothered him when he was sleeping...the one that was still testing his boundaries from time to time...the one that got really upset when we first left him alone in the hotel room. HOW DARE WE!

As Cooper grew, and as we moved from small hotel room to slightly larger apartment with a balcony (joy of doggy joys) for viewing his kingdom, he settled down. He learned that he was not allowed to bark at everything that thought of moving, nor was he allowed to fuss just because another animal was fussing or making noise (we had goats and seagulls galore...not to mention cats and RATS of all things...but that is another story). He learned to walk properly and to follow many more instructions. Basically, he grew up a bit and therefore settled down.

This is when I took to calling him just lones. He is my lones, and we see lots of other loneses out when walking or on the television (his favorite shows are The Dog Whisperer and the Humane Society/Animal Police shows that come on Animal Planet). He is quite aware that I am pregnant and that things are a-changing. He is way more snuggly and cuddly and just sweet and therefore he is my lones.

Back to the point.

We have the best lones ever. He is full of character and yet all the good things all in one 17 pound package. Some proof that he is fabulous:

On our trip from Spain back to Houston, we had two flights. This meant Cooper had to be in his kennel for 24 hours. He also had to wear a muzzle (the first airline required it...though they don't remove the animals from their cages - they make you do it for the x-rays). He sat in his kennel through Málaga Airport and barked from time to time when we rolled him. When we were still, he was quiet.

Airline number one decided to tell us that they couldn't guarantee that he'd get on the second airline's plane for our connection. That is called covering one's behind. That I understand. We had confirmation with airline number two, so it didn't matter. Then they decided to tell us we had the wrong papers. That is called they don't know what they're talking about. No, we didn't have an EU Pet Passport. Would you like to know why? Because we didn't need one. We weren't going to the EU, only through it to the US. So we had all of the proper forms for THAT trip. The trip we happened to be on. Imagine that.

Needless to say, it upset me a bit. I imagine things were worse because I was exhausted what with all of the moving of furniture, cleaning, and packing I had been doing to get everything ready. It was just one.more.thing. that I didn't want to even think about.

We had to take him to the other end of the airport to let his kennel go through the x-ray machine. I held him and then placed him back in his kennel...which he wasn't too fond of. We then all went our separate ways. Once on the plane, we asked if he was on there yet. We needn't have asked because once he was on the plane, we could hear him. Apparently he is not fond of the changes in pressure when one takes off and lands, since that is when he was most vocal.

We get to our connecting airport in Paris and collect all of our bags and the dog. Once again, he barks a bit when we move but not when we are still. We get to the second airline and they are perfectly happy with all of the papers we fact, they didn't even check them, just the dog. He must have looked good because off he went with someone and we were off to the plane. We couldn't hear him on the second one, but they confirmed his presence for us.

Everyone sleeps quite a bit on the trans-Atlantic flights, and it is no different for loneses. We arrived in Houston and collected our bags as well as Super Cooper. We then had to wait and wait and wait for a taxi-cab that was a van so that it would all fit. Where were we headed? Like 3 minutes away - to the rental car place. By this time, Cooper was fussing a little the driver got a good tip.

We got there and unloaded everything outside the builging. I stand guard while Señor CC goes to get a car. I let Cooper out (FINALLY) and he immediately finds some grass. Amazingly, he had not relieved himself for the entire trip.


Needless to say, it took him a wee bit o' time to finish up.

Then he began licking the wet sidewalk.


My poor lones needed some more water. Luckily, we had some left in his water dispenser that was in the kennel. It took some doing (duct tape is awesome stuff), but I got it loose and poured it in his bowl. He then commenced water-logging himself completely.

We finally arrived at our hotel that night and Cooper was re-introduced to carpet. It went something like this:

"Ohhh, carpet, how I've missed thee. Let me rub myself all over you to show you how fabulous I think you are. Also let me sleep on as many sections of you as possible the first night that I am with you to show you how I love you."

The next day, lones had discovered that he could lie down on the window sill:

Apparently this was equally fabulous.

The most fabulous thing, however, is my lones. As I've said, he is the best lones ever.

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