Carol’s Column

Up, up and away

THERE is the exclusive Rand Club, the elegant Inanda Club, the prestigious Johannesburg Country Club and now, I am happy to report, there is also the Flying Pets Club.

Equally exclusive, elegant and prestigious, it has been launched by British Airways to enable yuppie pets to jet overseas in a style to which they were previously not accustomed.

Now, the animal in your life can have an overseas holiday and be treated like royalty into the bargain.

I was fascinated and overjoyed at the thought of sending Henry-the-Hog on an extended vacation to visit the Tromblethorps in Boston. And, perhaps he could take in Disneyland and the Big Apple too.

I couldn't wait to make Henry-the-Hog a member of this exclusive club. Okay, he wasn't an Elkhound or a Pug, he resembled a bald warthog, however, surely he wouldn't be blackballed for lack of beauty.

I phoned Neil Hougham-pronounced-Tuffham, BA's charming and helpful cargo manager and Generalissimo of the Flying Pets Club, to inquire whether or not Henry-the-Hog was eligible for membership as I was considering sending him overseas.

"What is Henry-the-Hog?" Mr Hougham inquired. A pertinent question indeed for it transpired that had Henry-the-Hog been a camel, ostrich or cockatiel, he would have been excluded from the club.

"It is only open to dogs and cats," said Mr Hougham. "Of any variety."

I learnt that membership of this exclusive canine and feline club was free and that there were all kinds of advantages.

"I'd like Henry-the-Hog to travel first-class so that he can stretch out in comfort. Besides, he just loves smoked salmon and caviare. Ever since he gatecrashed the Zoo Lake restaurant, he's had a penchant for canapes," I explained.

"All club members fly the same class," said Mr Hougham. "We don't like to differentiate between our members.

"Look, you don't sit next to Henry-the-Hog," he added. "He will have his own special travelling arrangements."

It seemed when I bought Henry-the-Hog's ticket, he would be issued with a 28-page passport in which his special details were to be recorded.

There was a space for his photograph which meant I had to book an appointment to have a full-frontal portrait taken.

Then I'd have to fill in his personal details — "Nothing too personal," said Mr Hougham, "we don't like to embarrass our passengers. Just the usual details — size, colour, make, medical history, vaccinations, etc."

He paused. "There is one question that is a little sensitive," he said.

"We have to ask whether or not Henry-the-Hog has been neutered."

I assured him that happily Henry-the-Hog was totally intact.

"You'll check in together," said Mr Hougham, "then Henry-the-Hog will be weighed, placed in his designer travel container and a hostess will carry him lovingly away to his special place in the cargo hold.

"We would never just let him roll away on the conveyor belt. And, in the hold, we make sure that the temperature and ambience are perfect for our club members."

Mr Hougham assured me that Henry-the-Hog would be met on arrival in London and escorted to the club's transit lounge where he would be given plenty of tender loving care and some liquid refreshment.

"The less that goes in, the less that comes out, if you get my meaning," said Mr Hougham.

I did.

In Boston, Henry-the-Hog would alight from his flight feeling refreshed and ready for his vacation.

I couldn't wait to tell my husband the good news.

"Henry-the-Hog has joined the Flying Pets Club and he's off to America to visit the Tromblethorps."

"How much is his ticket?" asked my financial asset.

"About R468 one way," I said.

"What a bargain," he said, "what a pity we can't join too."

This wasn't the moment to tell him that I'd signed him and the kids up as members of the Flying Pets Club.

If they all stand and woof at the check-in counter, who would ever know?

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