5am came early on the morning of my flight to Mexico City. I wrangled Laverne into her backpack and dragged my suitcases to the rental. The streetlights’ dim glows reflected off the melting snowdrifts.
Laverne wasn’t extremely happy about this, but she seemed intrigued about the new development.
My flight was to depart at 12pm out of LaGuardia, so I had just enough time to hit the 87 south out of town and make the three hours to New York. Laverne screamed for the first thirty minutes, then settled into a perturbed silence.
At baggage drop, I presented Laverne to a smiling ticket agent who wanted to know her name and how she was finding the journey. I gave a wry smile and noted she hadn’t lost her voice yet. He then took my fee payment for her (I didn’t have to talk him into that one) and sent us on our way.
Travelling light is my only way to go, so I had opted to wear a small backpack as carry-on and strap the cat to my front so I could keep an eye on her. It was surprisingly fun. More people than I expected eye-smiled at me behind their masks as I hoofed it through the terminal.
Pet relief areas seem to be increasingly common in airports, as least according to pet owners. I had never really noticed them before, so was curious about what one would look like. Near my gate, the spot was clearly marked and unoccupied, so I tried it out.
The pet relief area was essentially a small closet with a sunken area of artificial grass and sources of water in the form of hoses and a sink (obvious applications there). I freed Laverne from her canvas cage and let her poke around a bit. She did so apprehensively. I can only imagine what smells she was experiencing.
There was no way to lock the door from the inside, so I worried the whole time that a giant dog would stumble in and inspire Laverne to fly. So, I made our visit short.
Carrying a cat in-cabin also turned out to be relatively painless. At least for me. Laverne seemed unenthused but only meowed a bit as I placed her under the seat for takeoff. Hurtling down the runway must have made her anxious, but she never once yelled as she had in the car. Once we reached cruising altitude, I was able to hold her carrier in my lap and give her calming scritches. She tried to get out at first, but then dutifully gave up and napped.
Connecting in Dallas was probably the peak of the travel stress. As it turned out, there was no pet relief area this time (thanks for nothing, DFW Terminal C), so I attempted to let Laverne out on a leash, after promises of good behavior. She lied. She immediately dove under a seat occupied by an elderly couple sitting amongst extensive baggage and dug her claws into the carpet. To the amusement of all present, I finally acknowledged the reality that I would have to crawl halfway under there myself and yank her out. Once accomplished, she was grounded to my lap for the rest of the hour while I finished my double cappuccino.
(At this point, I will note for any other cat owners that Laverne seemed fully willing to hold her business for the entirety of the journey. This was my biggest concern going into the trip, and it ended up being a non-issue. Your results may vary).
We touched down in Mexico City at 8:45pm. There’s nothing better than being greeted by a carpet of lights on approach to a brand-new city.
The hardest thing about getting Laverne through customs was how tired of it all I knew she must be. It felt like we waited forever for our baggage, then had to send each piece through another metal detector (illicit items detector?) before even reaching the animal check office. Once again though, she circled a bit in her carrier and then settled down.
It used to be that bringing a cat to Mexico involved presenting extensive documentation of medical history. That has changed and now only basic information is required. However, I still recommend having as many records on hand as possible, as I had to point out this change myself to the counter agent. She told me to wait and then spent some time on her computer (googling?) before acknowledging that yes, I had in fact read their official consulate website correctly. She gave us our ‘approved’ tags and we were on our way.
The CDMX airport was easy to navigate, even when blurry-eyed and weighed down by 8lbs of cat. Taxis and Ubers abounded. It was only a twenty-minute drive through traffic-heavy highways and side streets before rolling to a stop in front of my Airbnb.
CHLOE GOES 