The Cat of the Brat Pack Heads South of the Border

May 27, 2009 -

I'm planning a vacation trip to Mexico and by "planning a trip to Mexico" I mean, "thinking constantly about what it will mean to leave the dogs while I float down the sea of Cortez and wave to Ceviche peddlers dotting the beach.:

Ceviche / leaving the dogs behind / Ceviche / leaving the dogs behind! I've weighed each option, considered what each one means to me and ended up landing squarely on the side of: Pet Parents deserve vacations too. And Mexico is my destination of choice.

You might think, considering where I work, that decisions about what to do with the dogs while we're away would be easy. Not so fast - outside of my cubicle walls, I'm an average, completely neurotic, overprotective Pet Parent just like everyone else. And my sister, whose dogs also won't be going international, is worse than I am. So we were determined to work through every option we had for the pack and stopped just short of mapping out pros and cons for each on a worksheet.

Here's what we figured out: Leaving the dogs with friends is out of the question. Bear, my sister's gentle giant, is of particular concern since he is 1. extremely strong and 2. does not like to be separated from my sister. Ditto this collective issue for any in-home care providers.

So Bear and Sammy are packing up and heading to PetsHotel. My sister felt like that's where Sammy, who just turned a sometimes-grumpy 12 years old, will have the most likelihood of continuing the lifestyle he's become accustomed to including having any dried up junk around his eyes gently removed with a wash cloth each morning (It's a very important step in Sam's morning, that is.)

A few kind souls at work, most already living with the maximum number of pets they can fit in their homes, offered to take a member of my brood. So Ollie and Honey Pie are going to be sleeping over at the homes of co-workers who have promised daily calls from me won't be completely annoying.

Fat Louie is heading out to spend his summer vacation at Grandma's house, dog-free. If he were to write an essay about the time he spends there napping on my mother's various limbs and forcing her to tend to his every need upon waking up in the morning, I think said essay would start with "Awesome" and end the same way.

Now that the pack is all squared away, I'm hoping I can dedicate some real time and energy to your average vacationer's worries, like which pair of sunglasses to bring and how much to pack. Not likely, but I'm workin' on it.