Flying with a service dog is a lot like traveling with a very obedient and helpful toddler. As long as you are well prepared, and anticipate pretty much any need that may arise, you’ll be fine. You’ll just be carrying a lot more stuff than usual, and most of it won’t be yours. And you’ll have a preoccupation with pottying that will be perplexing to anyone who has never traveled with a dog.

That first flight though … It can be a bit scary, especially if you’ve never flown with a service dog before. And even when you have, it can still be nerve-wracking to take your young, inexperienced partner on his or her first plane trip.
Juno, my first service dog, made her first flight when she was almost five years old. I was headed back to Ann Arbor, Michigan, so we flew Delta (the only airline that flies direct from San Francisco to Detroit). Delta is the only airline I’ve flown where I have never had a bad experience getting my tickets. Their disability hotline staff are impeccably well-versed in the Air Carrier Access Act (ACAA), which is the federal law covering service dog access on airplanes.

“Her powers of sleep and relaxation have always been fairly mind-blowing, but even so I couldn’t quite believe that she slept through both the takeoff and the landing.”
As ever, my girl was a pro, despite my nerves. At security, she got a pat down from TSA because I chose to call her through the metal detector wearing her service dog gear. Hilariously, when the first TSA agent discovered Juno was female, he immediately called for “female assist.” (This has never happened with Kaline, my current—male—service dog, even if he’s about to get a pat down from a female agent).

We got on the plane and Juno promptly curled up in the tiny bulkhead space at my feet (I have since learned to fly economy plus, where the dog usually has more room to stretch out under the seat in front) and went to sleep. Her powers of sleep and relaxation have always been fairly mind-blowing, but even so I couldn’t quite believe that she slept through both the takeoff and the landing.
Juno was also a very easy traveler because she has efficient relieving habits. You tell her to “get busy,” and she does. Immediately. No. 1, No. 2, and done. She also seems to have an iron stomach (no matter what she eats, it almost never upsets her digestion) and an iron bladder. Her only requirement is that the pottying happen on something other than cement or asphalt.
I should note that airports legally must have a service dog relief area. However, that area does not have to be conveniently located or in any way appealing to dogs. San Francisco’s area seems to be miles away from everything useful, and is slightly smelly and rather uncomfortable rocks dumped into a chain-link enclosed pen. They’ve tried to make it cute by having you follow little paw prints to get there, but after fifteen minutes of following said paw prints, you start to get a little annoyed.
Which brings me to one of the major perks of traveling with a male service dog who lifts his leg. Any vertical surface can be a potty spot! No need to wander about looking for grass, dirt, or gravel. Find a handy pole somewhere out of the way, and you’re golden.
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