Fly Fishing Patagonia, Part 3, Miami

Miami International airport has a buzz about it. It is probably second only to Atlanta in the south east USA for flight activity. I had landed and was waiting at the special cargo area for my dog to arrive. Eventually her kennel appeared. She looked alright. The effects of the tranquilizer had worn off. She was happy to see me. That was a good sign. I had already surveyed outside to see if there was a pet area or at least a large area of grass, or some sort of greenery. I didn't see anything. I asked airport staff about a pet area. They looked baffled. There was a tiny island of growth just outside full of discarded paper and other trash. Cars whizzed by it. I figured that is where I'd take her so she could relieve herself. That worked out well. Once back in the airport I noticed the water container that came with the kennel was missing. My next task was to get the airline luggage staff to try and find it. I kennelled my dog and then asked a uniformed fellow who kept going in and out of the special cargo area to look for it. Getting his attention wasn't easy. He seemed disinterested in my request but eventually said he would check. He returned seconds later and said he had found nothing. I explained to him once again what it looked like and that it had been attached to the kennel when it was placed on board so it had to be around! Another company employee was standing nearby, overheard me and came over. He went to look and came back several minutes later. When I spoke to him it was as if he had totally forgotten who I was and my request earlier. The water holder was gone. I had to accept it. I was ticked off at the airline employees. I was glad I had attached the back up water container with duct tape and it was still in place. When you travel bring two of everything... no make that three of everything.
I took my dog out of the kennel again and disassembled it so that it would fit in an over sized locker. I had spotted a row of taxis just outside earlier. With my dog on leash I went to hail one. My plan was to spend the afternoon in a nearby park and then return to the airport in the evening for the overnight flight to Buenos Aires. I spoke to several taxi drivers and all responded as if I had the plague. They said they wouldn't put my dog in their vehicle. I went from one driver to another. I told them I 'd kennel my dog if that would make a difference. No interest. I asked if there was a good dog park nearby. Eventually one driver said, "Tropical Park". The name stuck in my head. After much persistence I found a driver who said he would transport me if I kennelled my dog. I said it would take me a couple of minutes to retrieve and assemble it. He said he'd wait. When I returned he was gone. I spoke to several new drivers as the taxi line had turned over. Fortunately, a large middle-aged African-American driver agreed to take me to Tropical Park. The park took 10 or 15 minutes to get to. When he dropped me off I asked if he'd be willing to pick me up in 5 hours. He half heartily said he would. I didn't fully trust his response but said I'd be exactly in the place we were standing in 5 hours. I offered extra money if he returned. I thought to myself I'd better search for a telephone in the park just in case he didn't show. Cell phones weren't the norm then.
Tropical park was big, well manicured and beautiful. Where I was let off seemed to be a large tennis area with many courts. People were arriving and leaving in crisp white tennis cloths. Most looked Hispanic. Many were in shiny sports cars with convertible tops. I remember that Pete Sampras was the top tennis star then. I found a park office and asked the young people working there if they could call for a taxi later on. They said they would. I also asked what time the office closed. I spent the afternoon walking the park figuring it would help my dog sleep for the long 12 or 13 hours flight to Argentina. It was hot for us as we had come from the start of a Canadian winter. It was also humid. My dog's winter coat had also grown in. There were a couple of man made lakes in the north end of the park. I had brought lots of bottled water for us to drink. We eventually had to take refuge in the shade. I had disassembled the kennel and bungee corded it together so that carrying it was easy at least for an hour or so. Later I dragged it on the grass. I didn't want to leave it anywhere because if stolen I'd be in quite a predicament. Late in the afternoon we got caught in a tropical down poor. It was relief for both of us.
A couple of hours before I needed to return I started thinking I'd better call for a taxi based on my earlier experience at the airport. I went to the park cabana and they called as promised. It took forever for one to show up. I had assembled the kennel in the meantime. When the taxi arrived the driver refused to transport my dog. Deja vu!
It was time to tranquilize my dog for the flight. I gave her the pill disguised in a dog treat. Shortly after she became very sedated and stumbled a couple of times. I think the heat and all the walking we had done earlier made her more susceptible to the medication. People hanging around the park cabana started asking me, "What is wrong with your dog?" They still looked at me funny even after I explained to them that she had been medicated for an upcoming flight.
It was now dark. My dog was wobbly. I was desperate. One more call and a taxi showed up. The young driver said in a heavy Spanish accent that he wouldn't transport my dog. I pleaded to him over and over and then offered him sixty extra dollars on top of the airport fare. That changed everything. He said, "get in". As he whisked me down the Palmetto expressway north he said the smell of a damp dog made his "skeen (skin) crawl". He complained all the way to the airport. Thanks to him I was able to checked in on time. The Aerolineas Argentinas staff took good care of my dog. It felt good in the air conditioned airport and I felt free to go for a beer and sandwich. I realised then that I hadn't eaten since early morning and it was probably 7 pm or later. I was tired but grateful that I'd of soon be off to Buenos Aires. I remember saying to myself, "good-bye Miami!" It was a couple of weeks before Christmas 1998.