My name is Woodrow and I fly commercial.

Yesterday my mommy and I flew to Salt Lake.  This is a flight I have made several times, always wearing my 'service dog vest' and behaving like the gentleman that I am.  Since my mom is legally physically disabled, she kind of milks the system and claims entitlement to her service animal. details, details.  She is always so worried about checking in with me, since most ticket agents look at her like she's crazy when she tells them she's physically disabled.  Yesterday was the worst round yet.

I was already so worried her since she has been doing way too much over the last 6 weeks - she knows better than that.  I've been giving her my special looks when she is on her computer working on pictures too late, but she didn't seem to notice.  All of the packing, cleaning, organizing, lifting, etc that she has been doing in the last few weeks hasn't helped either.  I have been trying to be good boy but it really is important that I get her up to check the backyard for squirrels a few times in the middle of the night - hello, ground security is very important people.

My mommy woke up yesterday and said specific prayers that the agents wouldn't give us a hard time.  They did. When we got to the airport we couldn't get anyone to help us, all of the agents were huddled in a crowd talking.  When she finally asked one to help, she told my mom to walk down to another one.  My mom finally got her bags checked and then embarked on the dredded conversation informing them that she was bringing a service dog onboard.  I really don't know why people keep calling me a dog.

"You sure don't look disabled to me," one agent at the ticket counter peered down over her glasses at my mom and said. I always get so frustrated when people tell this to her because they don't see her suffer like I do, oh if they only knew what her poor body does to her.  Mom handed over a printed out copy of their service animal policy stating that according the to American Disabilities Act, she is in fact allowed to bring me along.  The agents all huddled in a group talking and refused to even look at the paper.  They said she would have to talk to a manager.  She asked them to bring one over. They said she would have to call a number and get one herself. They went back to their huddle.  They kept saying things like, 'she looks fine to me,' and 'he's just a lapdog,' and all of that. I was worried about my mom because she was so weak she kept looking like she was going to drop.  She finally said she had to go sit down and would try and call headquarters. They told her that she couldn't leave her bags by the counter, 15 feet away from the chair, because they 'had to be with her at all times.'  My poor mom. 

She finally got a hold of some very nice people at the special services department and they were able to help her.  She went up to the counter, with them still on the phone, to try and smooth things over.  They wouldn't budge. The nice man on the phone kept asking me to hand my phone over to the agents because he could hear how rude they were being and how they were wrong in what they were saying. They wouldn't even take the phone.  I tried to be a good boy and stay still but I could smell my treats in her purse that were for the flight and kept trying to dig them out, very service animal like you know. Finally, a manager came over and agreed to talk to the people on the other end.  He turned a bit red and typed something into the computer and handed my mom our standby pass to get past security.  The other women continued to yell at my mommy and told her not to 'try' this again.  She tried to tell them one more time that she was in fact disabled but they kept telling her that there was no way she was. We left the counter and I could tell my poor mommy was near tears.

I was quite a hit at security, though, especially when they wanted me to go through the metal detector separate from my mommy but I refused to leave her side.  I know when she needs me and she was definitely on her last leg.  At the gate, I gave many hugs to all the women sitting around and even made a few toddlers stop crying by letting them pet me.  The agents at the gate were so nice that i even stood up on my hind legs at the counter and let them pet me as I was given my very own seat, right next to my mommy.  Well, maybe it just happened to be empty but like such a fine hound as myself is going to sit on the floor. C'mon people!

The flight attendants were very nice as was the lady who sat in the other seat in our row.  She had the nerve to bring a sandwich on board and not share, though!  I tried all of my best moves, my 'eye', my nudging of my head under her hand, even a hug, but she wouldn't part with even a bite.  I could tell my mommy relaxed as soon as the plane began to taxi away from the gate and knew that our summer hibernation had officially begun.  As we saw the wasatch mountains out of the window below us, especially Timp (my mommy's favorite place), she got a little smile on her face and I could tell we were going to have a nice couple of months.

I was so excited to see my gamma at the airport although she had to practically carry my mommy and all of our bags to the car.  The weather is lovely here.  It has been great to have all of the windows and doors open, letting me go out back and paint the fence whenever I like - it really is just too white, you know.  Today we woke up and went to one of my favorite parks from last summer, where I ran so fast and chased birds in the 63 degree weather.  We walked home, smelling the fresh sage and went right back to bed.  Three hours later my aunt PK tried to come in and get me but I never leave my mommy's side when she is asleep - I am her keeper, after all. Even that one time she slept 19 hours straight, I wouldn't budge. It's just my job. 

Yep, I think this is going to be a great summer, legally disabled and all.

Here's me on the plane. What?