How Georgie Handled His First Flight (Tips for Flying With Small Dogs)
Last Tuesday Georgie ate my sock and acted like I’d wronged him when I took it back. He gave me this look like, “You expect me to believe you don’t want me to shred this to bits and leave little white fluff balls all over the couch? Unbelievable.” Anyway, you asked about flying with him, and trust me, it was an experience. Remember how I told you he thinks he’s a wolf? Yeah, well, he thinks he’s a wolf that should be able to fly first-class with a champagne flute.
Choosing the Right Carrier: It’s a Jungle Out There
Okay, so first things first, the carrier. This is probably the most crucial part because if it’s not right, you’re not flying. Period. I initially grabbed this super cute, soft-sided pink carrier from PetSmart for like $30. It looked comfy, had mesh windows, seemed perfect. Georgie, of course, had opinions. He sniffed it, then ignored it, then Teddy (my other Morkie, you know the one who steals all Georgie’s toys and is generally a menace) decided it was his new napping spot. Georgie hated that. But my real problem was the dimensions. Airlines are super specific. My cute pink carrier was an inch too tall for United under-seat requirements. AN INCH. I swear, they probably have little airline employees with rulers hiding in the gate area. So that was a bust.
After a frantic online search and a lot of measuring tape action, I landed on the Sherpa Original Deluxe Pet Carrier (Medium), which I got for about $60 on Amazon. They have different sizes, so double-check your airline’s specific dimensions before you hit “buy.” The Sherpa is brilliant because it has a spring wire frame that lets the back end push down an inch or two if you need to squish it under the seat. Total game-changer. It’s also got a nice plush liner, good ventilation, and a little leash clip inside so Georgie couldn’t make a break for it if he somehow Houdini-ed his way out. He actually seemed to tolerate it, which for Georgie is high praise. He even took a nap in it at home, a clear sign of approval. Or maybe he was just planning his escape routes.
Pre-Flight Prep: The Calm Before the Storm
Alright, so once I had the carrier, it was all about getting Georgie used to it. This isn’t like, “Here’s a new toy, enjoy.” This is “Here’s your new home for the next six hours, get in.” For about two weeks before the flight, I’d leave the carrier open on the floor, throw his favorite treats in there, and sometimes his Kong. He’s obsessed with his Kong, especially when it’s stuffed with peanut butter. Sometimes I’d close the door for a few minutes while I was in the room, then let him out. We worked up to longer periods. He still gave me the stink eye every time, but he wasn’t panicking. This is crucial for avoiding a full-blown canine meltdown at the airport.
I also trimmed his nails the day before. Because if he’s going to be in close quarters with me in a metal tube at 35,000 feet, my legs don’t need to be shredded. Plus, long nails can get caught on carrier fabric, and that’s a recipe for disaster. I used a standard dog nail clipper (I have a Hertzko Pet Nail Clipper, about $12, works great) and took it slow. Georgie was his usual dramatic self about the whole thing, acting like I was torturing him when really I was just buffing the sharp bits off his tiny toe beans.
The day of the flight, I kept his breakfast light. No need for him to have an upset stomach at 30,000 feet. I also made sure he had a pee break about an hour before we headed to the airport, and I brought his portable water bowl (a collapsible silicone one, maybe $8) in case he got thirsty during travel. Dehydration is real, even for tiny dogs.
Airport and Flight Day: Show Time
Walking into the airport with Georgie in his carrier felt like I was smuggling something illegal. Everyone stared. I had his airline-approved health certificate ready to go—you need one of those, by the way, especially if you’re flying interstate or internationally. Check your specific airline’s pet policy because they vary. United let me take him as a “pet in cabin” for an extra fee of about $125 each way.
At security, I took him out of the carrier and walked him through like a regular passenger while they screened the empty carrier. He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, or maybe he was just in shock. The TSA agent even smiled at him, which never happens to me, so Georgie was clearly on his best behavior—or using his cuteness as a strategic advantage.
On the actual plane, I kept him in the carrier under the seat in front of me. He whined for about ten minutes, then settled down and actually slept through most of the flight. I had treats on hand, his favorite toy, and that collapsible water bowl. He was fine. Better than fine, actually. When we landed, he stretched, shook himself off like he’d just survived a safari, and then immediately acted like the whole thing had never happened.
