I have to say, economy class has gone to the dogs since I last flew. Literally - there's a trio of Yorkshire Terriers sat directly opposite me right now who I might just have to murder if their damned yapping gets any worse. Plus: no aperitifs, no warm towels, not even one of those dusty bags of rice snacks they force on everyone. Just a top-up of water through the bars of my cage. This must be that Ryanair I've heard about.The flight, to be fair, has been pretty smooth so far, if interminable. Over the yammering of the dogs I have been able to exchange some intelligence with a cat in the neighbouring cage, Chairman Meow. He claims we are being sent to a place that he had heard whispered about by other cats, a sort of limbo where animals must fend for themselves in the absence of humans. As evidence, he claims to have heard one of the handlers mentioning the name of this place, "a stray layer". I'm not quite convinced by this, and the phrase seems to remind me of something, if I could only remember what.
Anyway, racking my brains to think of it is more fun than sitting here doing nothing. They're showing 'Tropic Thunder' as the inflight movie. I think I'd get more stimulation and wit listening to the Yorkies.
Cheer up Jasper, My sister in law moved her cat from England to rural Portugal. He loves it there; it gave him a second childhood.
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