While Otis, our cat, was able to fly across country, we were surprised to learn that generally guinea pigs may not go on airplanes. We hypothesized about why, thinking perhaps because she is a rodent, it’s verboten. Whatever the reason, it seemed ridiculous, since a large part of my reasoning in choosing a guinea pig as a small pet was simply this: you never hear someone complain their house is infested with cavys (oh, but how cute would that be?!?).
She may weigh a pound and be a silly bit of silky fur, but Bubo is a part of our family. I love that piggy. So, Bubo accompanied Paul and me on our cross-country drive. I went to the pet store and discussed safe options to allow her comfort as well as adequate water. After a few minutes I realized we already had the right cage: Otis’ rigid cat carrier that we couldn’t use for him on the plane anyway, since carry-on kitties need soft-sided bags to allow under seat stowage. The water bottle clipped right on the front and we were set.
Bubo was our little travelling buddy. Sometimes Paul and I would take turns going to the bathroom in a rest area, but we usually brought her with us when we had to stop for food, gas, rest stop, or to sleep, so she would not get too hot in the car. Paul and I would stretch our legs, and Bubo would too.
In Utah we stopped at a rest area (we try to stop only at rest areas unless we’re hungry or need gasoline) that had a nice hiking trail. Paul and I wanted to climb up the few hundred feet to get a better view, and Bubo might have been the first guinea pig ever to go on that hike.
A few days or so after we were done with our long drive, Paul asked me what are I enjoyed seeing the most on our trip. I replied, “Utah.” He agreed. I don’t know what Bubo thought, though.
