I had to take Ripley in for boarding yesterday morning. This was significant in that it’s the first time I had to put him in his carrier by myself. Normally, our method involves my husband picking up Ripley while I hold the carrier and we both sort of shove him into it. Ripley does not like going into his carrier, because he’s smart enough to realize it means a car trip either to boarding or getting his nails trimmed.
I tried to be clever about the whole thing by taking his carrier out of the corner a few days in advance and moving it around, thinking that would desensitize him. My final step was to put it in the bathroom. I was hoping to shut him in there, thus minimizing his hiding spots. My deepest fear was that he would crawl under the center of the bed and refuse to come out. So I shut the bedroom door first.
That put him on alert immediately. Then I shut the doors to our TV room. Now he knew something was up and no treat would lure him into the bathroom. At least I had limited his movement to the hall and bathroom, thus eliminating any serious opportunities to hide. I donned a pair of leather gloves and wrapped him in a towel. My first attempt was unsuccessful, but at least there was no blood.
I managed to get him in on the second try. Once he was in there and I had shut the door, he hunkered down with a look of resignation. It made me feel incredibly guilty. I’m so sorry buddy, but I had to get you to boarding. The rest of day flew by, as I had a landscaping meeting at our new house at noon and then a bunch more stuff to get done before driving to the airport at 5:00. As I was backing out of the drive, I got a text from Delta that my flight was delayed 20 minutes. Deja Vu.