Journey to San Miguel July 8, 2008

My vision deteriorated from diabetes so I trained my dog Bilbo as a service dog. We went to dog school where Bilbo learned he can have a treat put on each paw and then wait for a minute before eating them. We graduated and left for San Miguel on July 8, 2008 with my BB dressed in full service dog regalia including vest and photo ID tag purchased online and me with a professional treats sack and a sight cane to help with stairs. What a wonderful day it was.

We were seated at the bulkhead next to a couple with a 7 month old baby and my confidence waned as I wondered what Bilbo's response would be to a crying little one. Andrew behaved beautifully as so did Bilbo. As we took off, he put his head on my lap and sighed as we placed our faith in each other's hands. Once airborne, he stretched out at our feet. My seatmates were comfortable with this and petted him throughout the flight. I felt so fortunate. Bilbo slept and relaxed until landing when the jet's air brakes were deployed and then he decided the world was going to end. His worried expression was treated with a few pieces of dried chicken. So far so good.

At the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, we were picked up by one of those electric carts in which I have always wanted to ride. The pleasant driver never used his horn, favoring whistling, shouts, and a little bell to make way among the crowd. Three terminals away, we immediately boarded our flight to Leon and encountered our first problem. While not a tiny puddle jumper, it was a very small jet with little foot room. When we boarded, the wonderful flight attendant saw we would never fit into the assigned single seat and moved us to the bulkhead 2 seater, "asking" the occupant to move. Our seatmate was a Mexican woman invited Bilbo to share her foot space so he could lie down. Unfortunately, she wore a black dress and soon Bilbo's lovely yellow hair began to find and cling to her dress. She began to pick and pluck them, but it was a losing battle. Thankfully the flight attendant saw the struggle and offered to move my seatmate so Bilbo and I traveled in luxury. The flight attendant also helped me to fill out the Mexican immigration and customs documents even though I told her I was only visually impaired and not blind. This gave me my first insight into being a disabled person which would become an expanding theme during the trip.

At landing, I was asked to wait until all other passengers exited and then was fetched by a young ground assistant who escorted me, Bilbo, and 4 unaccompanied minor children. He treated us like a gaggle of ducks and dealt with me by taking the end of my cane and pulling me along even though I insisted I could see well enough except on stairs. Everyone in immigration admired Bilbo who took all this in with typical Labrador equanimity. The waiting passengers from the plane came over to over-praise Bilbo's superb guide dog skills thus reaffirming my belief in the power of uniforms. One lady told me she had made a provision in her will to give money to train service dogs. Another couple gave me their card and invited me to visit them in San Miguel and in Texas and Colorado where they also have houses.

The immigration officer stamped my long term residency permit a half dozen times and then extended his hand in welcome, touching my hand so I would know what he was doing. In the customs area, another man ran after us, asking for Bilbo's passport so my heart sank, but he only wanted the note prepared by our vet and was delighted that it was filled in completely. The customs officer pushed the green light button for me, checked nothing, and sent me through to be met by Alfredo Lopez who would pick us up.

My handler turned over the tip of my cane to Alfredo and the unaccompanied kids all gave Bilbo a hug goodbye. This had all taken 45 minutes and I saw that, unknown to me, Alfredo had 2 other passengers waiting with him to share the ride to San Miguel. My apology for the delay was met with hoots of no concern and they insisted Bilbo sit with them. Alfredo had no intention of letting him sit in the back and so put us both in the front with Bilbo almost in his lap. The couple, from Texas, was on the way to visit friends for a week of "margaritas". The husband was a life long stock broker who spent almost an hour explaining why the US economy is strong and will rebound from all its current travails. The couple went way out of their way to tell me of their distain for George Bush, and how disappointed are most Texans in his performance as president. The cause, perhaps, is that Bush is not a real Texan. They both put their faces close to Bilbo as they exited the vehicle in San Miguel so he could give them a lick. So interesting.

We arrived at Casa Amistad after 9 hours of travel during which Bilbo had not been able to pee, so he jumped out and took care of this just as a donkey was passing by but he was unfazed. Laura the part time house manager came out to greet us, as did Alicia, our neighbor, and seniora Augustina from down the street. I still had my cane so they all clucked with concern but were glad to hear my vision was not so bad and expressed the view that Bilbo was clearly the reason I had arrived safe. The group collectively took me by the elbow and we went inside where I was beguiled by the lovely colors of the house and the pleasant, cool air within.