If you are traveling today over the rivers and through the wood to perhaps Grandmother’s house as you go, you will appreciate this little tail, or tale I should say of sorts.
In my family, we come from different states to gather in Texas for the holidays.  I come from Tennessee and my cousins come in from Kansas.  The Kansan Clan has mom, dad, two girls under the age of 5 and then there is Daisy the Basset Hound. The pets in our family are just that, family members. And are treated as such.
The trek to grandma’s, for this particular crew, used to be accomplished in a 12 hour day. Yet due to circumstances and such, it has evolved into quite a process.  It now requires preparing and packing for days, and a reservation at the Hilton Inn if you can find it cheap enough on Hotwire.com.  (Thank the Lord for the internet!)
With only five hours left for the journey, the exhausted brood tumbled out of said family van, eyes heavy with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads as they longed for the soft mattresses awaiting them. 
With one child in the arms of each parent, various and sundry paraphernalia strapped from stem to stern, the remaining question of the overloaded pair was simply, “What to do with Daisy?”  Ever the resourceful father, my cousin proceeded to stuff Daisy into a sports bag, zipped it up, and slung it over his shoulder. (Yes, I said a Basset Hound.)
To the amazement of our family when he relayed the tale to us at dinner, Daisy fussed but only for a few seconds. It was when the master slapped the bag lightly in assurance to let the pure bred know all was well, that the dog literally went into a coma of sorts. And never moved! They could have taken that dog to the opera, and probably wouldn’t have seen movement or heard a peep until the soprano’s aria.
It wasn’t until they reached their room, unloaded the bags, and the children, that Daisy was finally released from her dark cocoon. But only to emerge as calm and cool as a cucumber ready for her evening snack.
Now, this divulgence of sorts is not to encourage you to sneak the family dog into the next luxury hotel, however, holidays can be a time of survivial. And for this troupe, it was just a necessity.  Daisy is a dream, and as my cousin said, “…a better guest than most adults at these places!”  Sad, but true.
So, for all of you traveling with your beloved pet this holiday, remember that there are many kindred spirits out there joining you in empathy on the journey.  And please don’t ask me how I managed to get my 110 pound Labrador Retriever into the Hampton Inn.  During the holidays, there are just some things that are best left to the mind, and not the tongue.