Emotional
Support For Tough Times
by Walt
Giersbach
Gigi
Griffiths, a writer who travels around the world
as she works, and Luna, her sprightly 4-year-old
Schnauzer-Yorkie mix, are nearly
inseparable…. Luna is certified as an
emotional support animal, a designation under
federal law that allows her…to sit on her
companion’s lap [on airplane flights],
instead of being in a cage under a seat, where
regular pets must ride.
--The New York Times Nov. 11, 2013
Airplane travel is becoming tougher and more
draining than ever. My flight to Boston was
delayed because of mechanical trouble. We
were further delayed because of the handicapped
passengers who boarded first, followed by women
and babies, then the one percenters in first
class.
When I finally
plopped into my seat a wet tongue licked my cheek.
I cursed in shock since I’m a happily
married man. It was a dog giving me wet
kisses! A dog sitting on the
passenger’s lap in the seat next to me.
“Don’t
mind, Fang,” the woman said. “He’s
harmless and lovable.”
“Ma’am,
you can’t bring a dog on board!”
“Well,
yes, he’s a seeing eye dog. I’m
blind.”
“If you
were blind you’d have a proper guide dog,
something like a retriever. A really big dog. That’s
a Yorkshire terrier!”
“A Yorkie,”
she shrieked. “You mean they gave me a
Yorkie for a guide dog?”
“Ma’am,
I’m going to call a cabin attendant if you
don’t get that dog out of here. He’s
slobbering all over….”
“How dare
you insult my companion! He’s
really…really an emotional support dog, and
federal law allows him to accompany me everywhere.”
“Oh, no
you don’t. First you’re blind and then
you’re emotionally unstable. I’m
ringing for the attendant.”
“No,
please. I’ll confess. I’m a
Buddhist, and we believe in reincarnation. Fang
is my husband who has come back in the form of a
dog because of some spiritual error he made. I
have papers here,” she said, pawing through
her purse. “Papers to prove….
No, that’s Fang’s driver’s license.”
The cabin
attendant appeared over the seat and asked,
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes!
This woman claimed her dog is a guide dog because
she’s blind, and then she insisted it’s
an emotional attachment animal. Now,
she’s blabbering that it’s the
reincarnation of her dead husband.”
“Calm
yourself, sir. This poor woman has every
right to bring an emotional support animal with
her. It’s the law now. I have one
myself, but I only take it on vacations.”
“You’re
kidding me,” I snorted. “And your
dog or whatever….”
“I beg
your pardon!” He stood up as tall as
possible. “My Philomena is a pot-bellied
pig. And my former mistress when I was an
Egyptian pharaoh.”
“I
can’t wait to get to Boston,” I
whimpered.
“Neither
can I,” the attendant said conspiratorially.
“We’re getting married there next week.”
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