We're out the door to catch the train to the airport in 45 minutes--and counting.
The bag's packed: duplicate contract, poo-bags, water and dish, towels, paper towels, baby wipes, leash, collar, tags, and (they said no feeding, but) teeny tiny pieces of dried chicken to rub on my fingers. Just for a pleasant first greeting with smells. Not enough to make her throw up.
And the travel crate, lined with a large bath towel. We're taking a taxi back. I'm so excited I think I might throw up.