Check-in at JFK is really a very tense, demanding ordeal right now. I survived admirably, considering what I was schlepping--including two huge suitcase (filled with cosmetics, office supplies and paperwork and weighing about 100 lbs each) plus my so-called "portable" computer (I call it a "moveable computer" as it also weighs 100 lbs) and then the puppies (including leather tote bag weighing in at a mere 50.) 

Going through radar is incredibly complicated as the radar people obviously don't help you put your bags on the belt. Normally--the bags have already been checked in but at JFK everything is different. Only people with tickets are allowed in the airport. AS YOU ENTER, everything is immediately radared, so you have to put your bags on yourself--including your suitcases (which I couldn't lift of course). (The radar people stand there and watch you struggle--as do all the modern men who are now trained to never lend a hand to a woman for fear of insulting her independence.--HA!) 

Then the computer has to be taken out of its case and hand checked, and the dogs too have to be taken out and hand checked while their Sherpa bag goes through radar. Coats and shoes have to come off as well--you get the picture--me carrying the two dogs in one hand (Randy--the new version of a palm pilot!) and my 10 lb computer--no handled or grips or anything--in the other. 

Then immediately on the other side of radar, you have to give the computer to someone to hand check, stand there and wait (dogs are getting a big anxious by this time) while they visually scan your stuff, then get the puppies back in their carryon (they have now spotted the Sbarro fast food Pizza stand and are ready for a pre-flight snack) gather up everything; go to computer lady (who has probably downloaded all your private journals and confessions by this time for resale in the Inquirer) and reorganize the whole deal while the soldiers with their AK47s stand and watch. It was really fun. All that is just to get INTO the airport (I knew this having survived the ordeal in October--hence my concern about Julio and me etc.) Then you head for the CHECKIN line which is fortunately only about 2 hours and 14 minutes long! 

So by the time we got on the plane, the puppies were basically totally exhausted but way too energized to sleep. By the time the food service came around and they smelled a choice of entrees (grilled chicken with a "generous bouquet of fresh vegetables" OR Beef entrecote with "delicately flavored" Italian pasta) they opted for the beef and said--"We're coming out." 

After they had devoured my dinner (the vet said better they don't eat) I tried to give them some water and ice cubes (which they didn't want) and some honey (he said good for their blood sugar and Starbucks had little packets) which mostly ended up on my black pants but which they eagerly licked up along with the rice on my thighs. 

But the sweetest thing was that 1) the plane was empty as I mentioned, and there was this great guy directly across the aisle from me who adores animals and wants to set up a refuge for them! so he was a great help, and 2) once they were out of their carrier, they felt safe enough to totally collapse in fatigue. Me too-- 

this is where the adventure comes in.

I stretched out on a middle bank of empty seats--totally convinced I was staying aware of Julio (tucked into my tummy) and Randy (tucked behind my knees). RIGHT. I swear, I was barely dozing, but the next thing I knew I was being awakened by the flight attendant telling me that Randy had been all over the plane, and that they had found him strolling in first class (the draw was the salmon on cream cheese and crackers). Being as most of the passengers were French, no one could have cared less--in terms of being upset. They merely caught him and put him back in the carrier but because I had moved they couldn't find me! 

At any rate, we all survived. Coming through customs in Nice is absolutely nothing. They never checked the papers or even looked at the dogs. 

I called Bernard to tell him I had Randy, thinking that I would stop by to say hello and then "transfer" him tomorrow (or maybe never) but Bernard was all ready to take him. So, after Randy, Julio and I had taken a nap, and strolled on the Promenade a bit, shared a coffee in a cafe with some close American friends, we stopped by Bernard's shop "just to say hello." 

However, he was ready to close up, but had waited for me to bring Randy so he could take him to the pet store and get him fully outfitted. It all seemed WAY TOO SUDDEN FOR SOME OF US. Randy was his amazing, sweet self, but I know I could never have let him go were I not going to see him every day. 

Julio hasn't let me out of his sight--following my every move. But here is the funniest thing:

When I got to bed I was propped up against what would be the headboard if I had one, and was putting on some cuticle cream, foot cream, hand cream, face cream, etc. So Juli (hooley) snuggles under my arm, along my side--but on his back--basically in the same position I was. I swear he slept that way most of the night. When I turned off the light, I sort of scooted down and he didn't move--his little head resting on the hollow of my shoulder and all fours straight up in the air. Too funny. 

The house seems empty without Randy (who had already given Bernard a kiss by the time I got out of the car! Turncoat! And just having one 4 lb Chihuahua doesn't seem near enough, so Juli and and I will take the train to Frejus (about an hour away) to fetch JoJo today. But I will see Bernard first and hope to see Randy--if only through the window--as I don't want to confuse him.

The sea gulls are hearkening morning, so I think Juli and I--having completed our unpacking--will close the blinds and go back to bed. He seems enthusiastic about the idea. (now curled on my lap) I will def. keep you posted.

Here's a hug from me and a nose nip from Juli.

Love, 
Susan