We’re moving. Two full cars, two adults, one dog. Not only do we need to watch our cars full of stuff, drive separately and travel in tandem, we find it difficult to find a place to stay that will allow our dog. Our places have run the gamut from a crummy place in a swanky part of Houston; to the best hotel of all, Jim’s parents’ farm; to a dismal Holiday Inn Express (we thought that brand was a standard but it’s not, at least out west); and tonight, a lovely 1911 hotel in historic Cheyenne, WY overlooking the Union-Pacific train station and Cheyenne Depot.
It has been an adventure, but too often as dog owners we’ve been placed with a view of the dumpster, and between the elevator and ice machine. So these hotels pretend to have a pet-friendly policy but have their worst possible room available for the sucker who dares take it.
They always say “We’ll put you on the first floor so it’ll be easy to take the dog out” and in code that means “Stay off the elevators and out of public areas. Stick to the back where no-one can see you.”
Forget about eating. We’ve had more delivery pizza and drive-in Sonic burgers than one should eat in a lifetime in the past week. No-one will even serve us on a patio. It’s been too warm to leave her in the car, and she freaks out being left alone in a hotel room.
Tomorrow, as we reach our final destination, we’ll have a good place to stay, I hope. It’s been booked and we look forward to a relaxing evening before finding a place to live and starting work on Monday.
For those hotels that treated us well, you’ll hear from me. The opposite is true as well. Gone is the day when a hotel lives in a vacuum. I’m fifty and have my first blog. I have a plethora of electronics that connect me to the world for free. Does a hotelier really think that pretending to have a pet-friendly policy will make it these days?
Pet owners spend a lot of money in the US. When only 2.5 star or lower hotels are available to us that’s an insult. We’re used to staying at three-star or better and are willing to pay the price, but not to be treated as “steerage” once we get there.
I walked Zoe tonight, while Jim ordered take-out because we weren’t allowed near a restaurant. I actually wish we could spend some time here because it seems like it has an interesting history. But we have to go on. I arranged for a six-hour travel day tomorrow so we can finally rest.
Zoe doesn’t know who I am anymore. I’m just the lady that feeds her and follows her place to place. And tells her to be quiet as she humpphs and growls whenever anyone opens their hotel door. Jim pulled up by me today and Zoe looked at me and knew me and the car. All I can think is that she and Jim are running away and I keep catching up to them every evening! Hey, I never got the Aerobed/vacuum cleaner connection in a dog’s mind…
Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 