The Dog Bought a Seat


The Street Hustle

For the third time this year, I have gotten on a plane. My fear of flying isn’t gone but has been put in a deep hibernation. Maybe one day I’ll have enough money to travel in a large, occasionally working bus, stopping at local tourist traps, putting on puppet shows using the rear of the vehicle as my stage while I criss cross our great country.

Until that day, I am just an average American, taking off my belt, boots and placing the contents of my pockets in the plastic containers so they can all be x-rayed by airport security. What security will or will not allow on is always something of a mystery. This time, they confiscated the saline solution for my contact lenses.

Once on the plane and in the air, I heard a high-pitched yip. At first I thought someone had brought on one of those gadgets that sounded like a dog barking. Annoying but much like screaming children, neighbors with a case of the winds and irrational fears of crashing, it is the price of air travel.

10 minutes later, I discovered the dog was real. The woman had bought the pooch a seat. The stewardesses even offered the canine a complimentary bowl of water. Now, it’s a mystery who will be allowed to board a plane as well.

Who needs drugs when they’re flying?



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