Lucy in the sky
I AM SITTING in the gatehouse area, waiting for my airplane to arrive. It will be here ‘any minute’, it is ‘on the ground’. These are the stock answers I always get when I ask gate agents about the arrival of the inbound aircraft. I think these are vague, rote answers, taught to them in gate agent training.
An inflight supervisor approaches me and my crew. He has a big favor to ask of us. He tells us a small dog shipped last night did not reach its final destination. He does not say why and I don’t ask. I am not sure exactly what happened, either the flight was canceled or the dog was left behind but from the supervisor’s particularly concerned manner, I suspect it was Delta’s fault. We are being asked to take the dog to Atlanta, traveling in a soft-sided carrier that for some reason a gate agent had to go purchase. We will deliver the dog directly into the hands of a supervisor who will meet our plane at the other end.
Of course, all 4 flight attendants immediately agree. We will stow the carrier under the last row of seats where we can keep an eye on it and, dog lovers all, we will be happy to dog sit for a 3 1/2 hour flight.
The carrier is brought over. Inside is the tiniest, cutest little white dog. She’s just a baby, little black nose and button eyes, curious about us, not afraid at all. She has a wispy shaggy coat. We promptly name her Lucy in the Sky.
Once on board, Lucy stays in her carrier, sort of. We have to take her out, hold her, pet her, talk to her, admire her, give her little sips of water. All 4 flight attendants and a crew of 4 deadheading flight attendants cluster around Lucy in the back galley, flagrantly ignoring the “pet in carrier“ regulations that we so adamantly enforce when passengers travel with their pets in the cabin.
The deadheading flight attendants volunteer to keep Lucy at their seats until we complete our beverage service so she won’t be frightened and confused, stashed under the last row of airplane seats. Lucy doesn’t care, just as long as she has human companionship, someone to talk to her, keep her company. We find out immediately she doesn’t like to be left alone. She barks in a cute little yippy voice
Before we start the second beverage service prior to landing in Atlanta, the deadhead crew is snoozing and Lucy is back in the galley, barking nonstop through the mesh sides of her carrier. We take her up to the cockpit where, out of the carrier, she sits on the captain’s lap. For landing, she is handed over to an off-duty jumpseating pilot. Lucy sleeps quietly on the jumpseater’s chest for the remainder of the flight.
We write a note to Lucy’s owner and tuck it into a pocket on the side of her carrier. We tell the owner what a good little pup she was and how the whole crew fell in love with her.
A supervisor meets the plane for the handoff. We reluctantly give up our sweet little 2-pound bundle of fluff and head over to our next flight.