And Rizzo is his name-o

Recently I read the shocking story of a young woman who had occasion to travel from one place to another via commercial airplane.

Something I would never do.

And that's not all I wouldn't do; reader, read on.

Said female had acquired, during the course of an illness (of the non-life threatening sort) a medically-certified emotional support animal.

You've heard of that, surely? Like, someone who comes home from war afflicted with PTSD, is paired with a lovely canine companion whose presence calms and reassures the soldier? It's wonderful.

And I'm sure there are as many other iterations of that scenario as you could come up with in your spare time. Cats and birds -- maybe even ferrets and sugar gliders, bunny rabbits and three-toed sloths -- can fill the role as well as dogs, I imagine.

But even I didn't know that a peacock* (called Dexter, no less) could serve as an emotional support animal. And as much as I try to imagine the circumstances of not only how that could come about, but why, and of the ongoing ramifications of same, I cannot.

But the young lady of which I spoke at the beginning of this post was perhaps even more imaginative than Dexter's needy owner.

Her emotional support animal of choice was a one-ounce dwarf hamster. Name of Pebbles.

Pebbles, like most wee beasties of her ilk, resided in a wire cage lined with cedar chips and outfitted with an exercise wheel and a colorful plastic bowl brimming with hamster vittles.

It was in this cage that Pebbles' young owner transported her to the airport to board her flight.

She had called ahead -- not once, but twice -- to inform airline personnel of the existence of Pebbles, and to make sure that as her certified, card-carrying emotional support critter, she would be allowed to accompany her as she traveled from point A to point B.

And she was assured -- not once, but twice -- that the presence of Pebbles by her side on the flight would be not only permissible, but absolutely no problem.

Pebbles was welcome as a passenger. Bring her on, cedar shavings, exercise wheel and all. Nothing but green lights from here to Bedrock.

Except, when the young woman arrived at the airport and presented herself at the check-in desk with Pebbles riding shotgun, she was greeted with significantly less enthusiasm.

As in, she was told that in no way was Pebbles welcome to fly. Pebbles must remain on the ground. Most definitely not cleared for takeoff. No exceptions would be made.

Panicked, the damsel began a frantic search for a solution.

She said later, through her lawyer, that she had tried to rent a car so that she could drive with Pebbles to her destination.

But she claims no cars were available. Taking the bus was not an option, as she had only so much time to get home for a doctor appointment.

She renewed her earnest pleas for Pebbles to be allowed on board the flight. Again and again, her entreaties were met with stony refusal.

Finally, about to miss her flight, the desperate young emotionally-challenged would-be traveler arrived at the only conclusion she felt was available to her.

She figured she had no recourse but to execute her pet.

And that's exactly what she did.

Carrying Pebbles in her cage into the Ladies, our adventurer extracted her emotional support animal from its comfy safe nest and ... pitched it headlong into the potty.

And flushed. Sent the creature whirling to the sewers below.

It is not clear to me what she did with the empty cage, afterwards. Perched it atop the trash can? Left it, wire door ajar, on the soggy restroom counter?

At any rate, she boarded her flight, Pebbles-less, and got to where she was going.

Once there, she lawyered up. To explore the possibility of suing the airline for -- wait for it -- emotional trauma.

Rather predictable, wouldn't you say? I'd give anything to read the complaint in that case, when it's filed. Perhaps it would go thusly:

Feeling she had no recourse, and faced with the harsh reality of missing her flight, client was forced to endure the emotionally shattering experience of flushing the very animal who existed to provide her with emotional support. And it was entirely the fault of the airline, ergo they are liable for causing client excessive distress and pain and suffering, and should be made accountable by law and should pay damages in the amount of $$$.

Or something like that. You get the general litigious idea.

As I read this tragic no-happy-ending story, Rizzo lay snoozing on my lap. I idly stroked his soft ears. Every now and then, he opened his eyes to gaze up at me, which he frequently does.

I thought about the day I rescued Rizzo rescued me, exactly fourteen months ago. Having lost my beloved Javier to old age and renal disease on April 11, 2016, I'd made it nearly nine months without a pet.

And I came to the realization that all pets are emotional support animals. Because whether you're a cat or a dog person, or any-other-kind-of-animal person, you wouldn't take on the considerable responsibility of caring for a pet if you didn't have a need for the special, unconditional love they give.

My Rizzo has never traveled on an airplane (I don't think); he whimpers when he's asked to hop aboard an automobile. He's not much of an adventurer; mostly he prefers to be either napping in the recliner, basking in warm sun on the deck, or snugly ensconced in my lap.

I do believe his favorite spot is in my lap. He likes for my hands to be on him -- rubbing, petting, scritching, massaging. He's insistent on this point. He needs me.

And I need him. There is no need for Rizzo to ever fear plumbing.

The only thing I fear when it comes to Rizzo, is the inevitable sad day (unless I go first) that he's no longer with me.

But I won't think about that.

Instead, join me in mourning for poor unfortunate Pebbles, the emotional support pet grounded from flight and subsequently dispatched to a watery grave, drowned out of desperation by her no-doubt distraught owner in a cold and lonely, echo-ey airport restroom.

Rest in peace, Pebbles.

Oh and ... your former owner already has a new, replacement hamster. Just so you know. 

*Dexter the peacock was not allowed to fly either. Even though his owner had bought him his own ticket. Boarding pass denied.

I don't know how Dexter got home but I hope that in the process, not one bright feather was harmed.

Whatever transpired, I'm reasonably sure that he was not flushed.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday

Comments

[Mari]

Well, this doesn't happen often, but I am speechless.
However, not really surprised, as not much surprises me anymore. What a world we live in...

[Jennifer]

@Mari ... ain't it the truth.

[Sally]

Lord have mercy! IF I come back as a hamster,
Please save me from that witch! This isn't nice. But, if that nitwit makes a penny I hope she chokes on it. And, that is all.
Xoxo

[Jennifer]

@Sally ... haaaaahaa well said, my friend. Ditto. xoxo

[Barb]

Therapy animals must be certified in order to fly or be taken into public buildings, and I don't think either a hamster or a peacock could pass the stringent test! I have a good friend who has a trained therapy dog - it's no easy matter to get certification. That said, I do believe the young woman is wacko and needs therapy - more than a hamster can provide. All I can think of is that Pebbles probably clogged the toilet...

Of all the frivolous lawsuits nowadays, a flushed rodent is not too farfetched I guess. (Poor thing...)

[Cheryl]

I saw the story about Dexter on the news. People are crazy! Not only that, it is making it difficult for those who really do need their animals like the seeing eye dog.

Have you made provisions for Rizzo in case you go up in the Rapture before he passes? Just wondering.

[Judy]

I wouldn't want to be the next to use that stall. Pebbles may have been strong enough to swim upstream and be hamster paddling around the bowl. Surprise!!!

[Jennifer]

@Barb ... and yet the woman insisted that Pebbles was "medically certified." I think the only thing we know for sure is that SHE is certifiable. Haahaha xoxo

@Cheryl ... interesting question and no, I have not given the slightest thought to what would happen to Rizzo if we are all raptured out of this world before he dies. I need help figuring this one out. xoxo

@Judy ... now THERE'S a visual! I hope Pebbles survived somehow. Poor wee creature. xoxo