Pets on a plane Surprisingly little drama and unexpected upsides when playing fairy godmother to rescued pets being flown to new forever homes By: Eva Wasney Posted: 7:00 PM CDT Thursday, May. 11, 2023

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 11/05/2023 (896 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Looking for instant popularity? Craving adoration from strangers? Try walking through an airport with a puppy in tow.

Fellow travellers will pause their journeys to marvel, children will be mesmerized and security personnel will wave you through the metal detector while joking that said puppy definitely needs to be confiscated.

If you’re lucky, on-shift restaurant servers will sit down at your table to trade stories about their own pets and wager guesses on pedigree — “She’s gotta be part Labrador; she looks just like my so-and-so.”

I was indeed so lucky on a recent trip to Toronto.

Last week, my partner and I flew east with a veritable petting zoo: one wiggly black puppy named Cinder, a young tabby named Phoenix and a mama calico named Pom Pom along with her five fluffy kittens.

The animals had been rescued by K9 Advocacy Manitoba and matched up with adoption agencies in Ontario. After rave reviews from friends who had volunteered for the local non-profit, we signed up to act as transporters — or “cat mules,” as one passerby put it.

K9 was founded in 2015 by Jasmine Colucci, an Indigenous nurse who wanted to help tackle the issue of stray-dog overpopulation on First Nations. The volunteer-run organization takes in roughly 200 dogs and 150 cats per month from 30 communities in rural Manitoba and Nunavut, staging the animals in local foster homes before sending them off to partner rescues across the country.

“For the sheer number of dogs that we bring in, we don’t have the manpower to do adoptions here; it’s just not feasible,” says director Chelsea Kork. “I also find it’s supply and demand; there’s too many dogs here, not enough people.”

Kork is in charge of logistics. She co-ordinates transportation and liaises with out-of-town rescues. Over the last eight years, K9 has established connections in nearly every province.

“I’ll send dogs anywhere,” Kork says. “We’re always looking for flyers.”

The organization aims to make the volunteer gig as seamless as possible. Interested travellers can sign up by messaging the rescue on Facebook, which then gets to work reaching out to rescues and lining up tickets for available cats or dogs. The goal is to get animals moved from intake to foster and onto their new homes within three weeks.

K9 can attach three kennels to each passenger’s ticket and volunteers can choose whether they’d like to bring carry-on companions or have them stowed in the hold (we opted for both). The rescue works primarily with WestJet, which charges about $100 to check a kennel — a cost that’s covered by the receiving rescue.

Animals can only be delivered to final destinations within Canada — layovers don’t count — and travellers should get in touch at least a week before their departure date.

I wasn’t privy to any of the behind-the-scenes scrambling. All I had to do was send Kork my flight information and collect my temporary dependents at the airport.

Walking into the terminal, it was easy to find the motley crew — the meowling cat carrier being a dead giveaway.

Pom Pom was the first to arrive and she was none too excited about the situation. A very vocal cat, she meowed constantly and loudly while we cooed over her brood of unbothered and unnamed kittens.

In a departure from K9’s usual process, Pom Pom was found pregnant in the West End of Winnipeg and had given birth while in care, her foster mom explained.

Next up was Cinder, a 12-week-old pup found on a reserve west of the city. With downy, pitch black fur from nose to tail, she strode up to the group with confidence and demanded pets from everyone in the vicinity. Pom Pom was not impressed.

Phoenix — a three-month-old cat with a slim face and piercing yellow eyes — arrived the way she would remain throughout the journey: calm and quiet.

Pom Pom and her babes travelled in the hold, while Cinder and Phoenix joined us in the cabin.

Never having flown with animals, I had some questions about the bathroom situation. Common practice is to withhold food and water for a few hours before takeoff; dogs and cats are also unlikely to “go” in their carriers.

The airport also has a small dog-relief area near the gates, replete with AstroTurf and a plastic red fire hydrant.

Kork met us at the check-in counter to fill out the requisite paperwork and plaster the kennels with tags and “live animal” stickers. K9 has hundreds of kennels reserved for transport and they’ve struck a deal with various shipping companies to get them returned to Winnipeg pro bono post-delivery.

The most stressful part of the pre-boarding process was taking the cats out of their carriers to walk through security. It was easy to imagine a stressed animal wriggling free and running off, never to be seen again. Thankfully, there were no mishaps and I’m unaware of any felines currently haunting the Winnipeg Richardson International Airport.

Cinder was the undisputed star of the show. While carrying her through the line, I heard no fewer than three confiscation jokes and multiple people came over to give her a pat.

It’s the first time I’ve ever been smiled at by airport security. A 10-out-of-10 experience; would transport puppies again solely for the royal treatment.

The attention continued on the other side, with gate and wait staff asking for a peek inside the squirming soft-sided carrier — Cinder wasn’t a big fan of the close quarters, but she calmed after a few minutes.

The flight itself was uneventful. I’m a nervous flier and hoped having snoozing animals at my feet would serve as a natural form of therapy. Nope. Still managed to have a nice prolonged panic attack mid-air.

The cats were brought out to baggage claim almost as soon as we landed. Mama Pom Pom was still unimpressed and the kittens were still unfazed.

The animals were a big hit with a gaggle of kids with East Coast accents. They offered scritches through the kennel doors, picked their favourite kittens and pleaded with their parents to let them take home a new family member. I had to break the news that I was merely a cat mule.

Travelling with adoptable animals, you become a de facto spokesperson. By the fifth explanation, I had the K9 elevator pitch down pat.

Volunteers with the receiving rescues met us at the airport. Cinder went off to Northern Connection Rescue, based in Brantford, Ont., and the cats got scooped up by Ninth Life Cat Rescue, headquartered in Oakville.

We were thanked heartily for our service, but the farewell was bittersweet. Even though I was only a caretaker for a few measly hours, I felt bonded to my charges. Kudos to everyone who fosters animals. I don’t think I have the resolve.

While the trip was a novel experience for us — and one I’d gladly do again — we were merely cogs in a massive ongoing animal welfare operation.

The issue of overpopulation on First Nations in Manitoba is a complicated one, says Kork. Animal bylaws differ from community to community and there are few veterinary resources available to remote reserves, making routine spaying and neutering a challenge.

There have also been horrific instances of residents being attacked and killed by packs of stray dogs — just last week a woman from Peguis First Nation was sent to hospital after one such run-in. The animals involved were later destroyed.

K9 Advocacy Manitoba is in the process of becoming a registered charity, a move Kork hopes will allow the rescue to expand its mission and run regular spay-and-neuter clinics for the communities it works with.

“I think it’ll help us in the long term,” Kork says. “Getting bigger donations, getting our name out there more and hopefully raising more awareness about the overpopulation of dogs in Manitoba.”

eva.wasney@winnipegfreepress.com

Twitter: @evawasney