Let me start this blog by saying that I will never ever accept the excuse, “I’m moving and can’t take my dogs” from anyone ever again! I had to go through a ton of paperwork, inspections, and other bureaucracy to get my dogs accepted into two countries, not to mention the hell I went through at the airports, just so I could move with my dogs! I have done a lot of wild things in my life, but getting my dogs to Belize is possibly the wildest adventure of them all. 

Now I will tell you about the horrible, awful, no good day that I flew three of my dogs to Belize. It was not funny. It was stressful, but I will admit that after the fact the whole ordeal is quite comical.

The plan was to fly my dogs (ALONE) to Cancun from Denver, where Rob would meet us in our car. Once we arrived we would stay overnight and then drive the 8 hours to our Belize home in the morning. I was terrified, but there was no way I was leaving my dogs behind. 

On the morning of the flight my daughter Katy drove me and the dogs to the airport at 7:00 am in one of the rescue’s transport vans. This was the only vehicle that could accommodate all three of the crates and luggage. 

I am a visual person, so I visualize every scenario. In my mind, I visualized us parking in the garage at the airport and then having Katy help me get inside and settled before the flight. So I told her to go the the garage when we arrived. As we turned to go into the garage we quickly realized that there was an 8′ clearance and we were in a 15′ van, but there was no way out or around this exit.

We decided that the best way was to just slowly move through the clearance bar so we could exit the other side. We went super slow, but did not realize prior that there were lights on the top of the van. Needless to say, those lights are no longer operational. We broke every single one of them as we slowly bumped the concrete bar over the top of the van. This was not the end of the world, but it left us in a pickle because we had to figure out a place where we could park.

There was no way for me to get all the dogs and the luggage into the airport alone. I had three suitcases and three large dog kennels, but every place seemed to have a clearance issue. We finally determined that the only place we where she could drop me off with a high enough clearance was the commercial vehicle section. We decided to risk it. 

We parked in the drop off area that is littered with “No Parking” signs, and we turned on our hazards. After paying $1,500 for three health certificates that expired in ten days, and another non refundable $1,000 for the flight, there was no way I was missing that plane! We would risk a ticket! 

After all of the luggage and crates were unloaded we used bungie cords to fashion a train of dogs. The airline crates were on wheels and rolled relatively easily, but I learned very quickly that pulling all three dogs was not an option. Each crate weighed 75 lbs and I could not pull 225 lbs plus another 150 lbs in luggage alone. So I put suitcases on top of the crates and began to pull two of the dogs while my tiny daughter pulled a single dog and one 50lb suitcase.

Let me tell you that I wish I had video of that experience! I was pulling at least 250 lbs of dogs and suitcases onto sidewalk ramps using a makeshift bungie train. I had to pull so hard that I was almost laying down. We got to the doors into the airport with minor incidents and then, as we entered the airport, there was a rug! That damn rug got stuck and bent underneath the crates. Not only was I stuck, but it was also blocking the entire doorway. The people passing by looked at us as if we were insane, because well, we were!

We navigated Satan’s rug, and boarded the elevator, making sure to avoid anymore rugs. We finally made it to the ticket counter, where I learned very quickly that I was the only person who spoke English. 

A tiny bit of a history is necessary here. I could not find a single U.S. based airline who would fly my dogs as cargo because of breed restrictions and other ridiculous rules, so I booked my dogs on a flight with Volaris Airlines, which is based in Mexico. So it made perfect sense that I was the only English speaker, but the language barrier was a little daunting to say the least.

I am sure I was quite the site to behold. In fact, I know I was because of the stares I received from passengers walking by. I was the tallest, whitest person in line, with 360 lbs of dogs and luggage in tow. 

My flight was scheduled to leave at 11:40 am, and the process of getting into the building was very time consuming. I had to go through all the paperwork and then go to a special security room to have the dogs and crates inspected. Then I escorted my dogs to their drop off point. After all of that I went through TSA security. At this point it was 10:15 am and the line was extremely long. I was getting very nervous that I would miss my flight and my dogs would be lost in Mexico somewhere. Of course the dog food in my carryon caused my bag to be flagged, but the stress must have shown on my face. When the TSA officer grabbed my bag to open it, I kind of unloaded and told him about the morning. He clearly did not want to deal with a hysterical woman, so he briefly looked in my bag and let me go. 

At the gate, I was again the tallest, whitest, and only English speaking person. When I boarded it donned on me that I would not be able to understand anything that was being communicated over the loud speaker.  It is a good thing the plane wasn’t crashing because I would have been oblivious. The flight attendants ignored me, I am guessing because they didn’t speak English and I made them uncomfortable, so I just watched movies on my phone and made the most of the experience. 

I will say that being the only English speaker onboard gave me some insight into how people from other countries must feel when entering the United States. Some Americans, not all, are very intolerant of people who can’t communicate according to their norm. This is kind of how I felt on the flight. 

I made sure that all of my dogs were wearing AirTags so I knew they were onboard, and we flew to Mexico City. When we got there, there wasn’t a sign in English or anyone who spoke English, so I got Lezlay, my warehouse guy’s wife on the phone. Thank God, she speaks fluent Spanish and was willing to help. She knew that I was terrified of this leg of the trip. She told me to find someone and give them the phone. I don’t know exactly what she said, but that man walked me to every single checkpoint and inspection area with the dogs and the luggage, and helped me get them rechecked for the connecting flight. It was a life saver. 

Then I was directed to a new area where I had to find my gate and go through security again. Keep in mind there were zero signs in English. I got Lezlay on the phone again and she talked to another man who took me where I needed to go. 

I went through security and which put me on “B” gate. I found the flight information board which said that my boarding gate was “B”. The problem was that when I walked the concourse I quickly realized there were no boarding gates.  I was on the phone with my best friend at this point and talked to her as I tried to find my gate. I stopped and asked several people and no one could tell me, or understand me. 

I finally found the one and only English speaker in Mexico City and he told me that 

“B” gate was a waiting gate and that my boarding gate would be posted soon. Good enough! I waited and eventually boarded the plane. 

I felt a wave of relief when I got on that plane because I knew Rob would be waiting for me at the airport in Cancun and I wouldn’t be alone, or so I thought! The Mexico City layover had plagued me with fear for weeks prior, simply because I didn’t know what to expect. So a huge weight was lifted when that part of the trip had concluded. 

When I arrived in Cancun I went to baggage claim to get my bags and the dogs. Just as soon as I landed, I got a text from Rob saying they wouldn’t let him enter the airport to help me. In my mind I figured I’d make a bungie train and get out of the airport that way. I didn’t see any rugs on the floor, so I could manage it. 

It was 10:00 pm and the airport was a ghost town. The only people around were the guys at the rental car places. I quickly got my bags and then my dogs came out. I noticed immediately that they had taken the wheels off of the crates. I couldn’t lift them alone to put them back on, so I couldn’t make a bungie train and pull them. 

Knowing Rob couldn’t come in to help, I asked the people at the rental call booths to call for help. No one came.  Thirty minutes in my dogs where whining, I was waiting, and I was getting angrier by the minute as people walked by me ignoring me entirely. 

I was again on the phone with with my friend, holding back tears. After 40 minutes of people walking by, I decided I was going to get outside myself, even if it took me all night! So one by one I would drag one 75 lb crate (full of dog) about 5 feet, then another, and another, then I’d roll all my bags up to the crates and start the process over. I did that for about 30 feet until I got to a long hall. At that point I was LOUDLY cursing in a fashion that would have made a sailor blush. People continued to walk by and watch me struggle, and with each passing person I got crazier and louder. 

When I was a few feet from the door some men who spoke English stopped and offered to help me get outside. They get 100 points for bravery, as I am sure that by that point I could have been mistaken for a schizophrenic madwoman. They got me outside where Rob was waiting for us. I tipped them, and the other workers outside saw this. These were the same jerks who walked past me and watched me struggle, yet when I tipped the other men they were then eager to help! It took a lot of self restraint and extreme Christianity for me not to tell them how I felt about them. 

Rob got everyone loaded and we headed to the hotel. He then broke it to me that the hotel may not let us stay there. They told Rob during check in that they only accept “small” dogs. This is not specified on their website, and I was tired and hangry after flying all day, so this was NOT an option for me. He said the only way into the hotel was through the front lobby, and that there was no way to sneak the dogs in. Thankfully, God is good and knew that I was at my breaking point. By some miracle we ran into Anastasia, one of our fosters and a friend from Colorado. What are the odds that she and her family would be staying at the same hotel?

She showed us how to bypass the lobby and get the dogs into the room safely. I believe she saved many lives that night by helping us avoid more chaos. God does place the right people in our lives at the right time, even though I taught the Mexican people a whole new vocabulary of English curse words. 😂

The next morning we got in the car and headed to Belize. This 8 hour leg of the trip was relatively uneventful. Our dogs were thrilled to be home in Belize, and I was thrilled to have them there. 

A few days later our daughter flew in with more bags of our stuff and helped us get set up in our tiny house. Now we just have four more dogs to bring down to Belize. I am praying for a different solution, as I don’t think my heart can handle another transport through Mexico.