Traveling with a service dog is always an adventure — even when you think you’ve planned for everything. Our most extended layover reminded me that sometimes the best moments happen when you simply let go and roll with it.
It started with one of those “your flight has been delayed” announcements that no traveler ever wants to hear. My son and I exchanged a look that mixed tired frustration and “here we go again.” His service dog, on the other hand, wagged his tail like we’d just been told we won a free vacation.
We found a quiet place
We found a quiet corner near an empty gate, spread out a blanket, and made the best of it. I pulled out snacks (because a mom always has snacks), my son opened his tablet, and our service dog stretched out right between us, sighing like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.
As the hours passed, people stopped to ask questions — not about the delay, but about our dog. Some just wanted to pet him (which we kindly declined, as always), while others were genuinely curious about his work. One woman even sat with us for a bit, sharing how her sister was training a therapy dog. For a moment, our little bubble of frustration became a point of connection for strangers.
How our service dog saved the day.
By hour five, my patience was wearing thin. My son was restless, the announcements went on forever, and I was sure I’d never want to see another airport chair again. But then I looked over — my son was laughing. His service dog had somehow turned his boredom into a game, gently nudging a toy back and forth with his nose. That moment melted away the entire day’s stress.
It hit me right then: our dog didn’t see this as wasted time — it was just more time together—more time to play, to rest, to bond. Maybe we were the ones who needed the layover, not the airline.
When our new flight finally boarded, I carried that thought with me. Traveling can be chaotic, unpredictable, and downright exhausting — especially with the added layers of disability, schedules, and service dog logistics. But this experience taught me something profound and straightforward: sometimes, slowing down isn’t a delay — it’s a gift.
And as we finally took off, my son leaned on his dog, closed his eyes, and smiled. Suddenly, the long day didn’t feel so long after all.
