Betty, a French bulldog, is quite small for her breed, but big on personality and huge on attitude. She’s also from the south. I flew from snowy southern New England to Florida with a layover in Atlanta. A light dusting of snow paralyzed all flights in and out of the airport, and my flight to Jacksonville couldn’t take off soon enough. The next day Delta Airlines had rewarded Betty and me with a first-class flight from Atlanta to JFK where she sat at my feet poking her head out of the soft crate. The seating area was so spacious, I could stretch my legs and just touch her button nose with my toe.
Once at JFK, a delayed flight to Providence again left me stranded for hours in a freezing airport with a trembling crate by my feet. I took her out and placed her in my lap. I think that’s the moment when we bonded, and she’s been curled up in my lap ever since.
Betty is my little shadow. She’s been up and down the east coast covering a lot of ground with those short little legs and loved by many. I’ve taken her to so many places and included her in so many activities, that she expects to accompany me wherever I go. She’s been welcomed in so many places that it warms my heart. It’s funny how I end up spending more in a shop when she gets to tag along.
“My little dog, a heartbeat at my feet.” ~ Edith Wharton
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