Her name was Banana. A yellow Labrador Retriever with the disposition of an angel, she was the dog of my heart. She was an 80-pound ray of sunshine, friendly to all people and animals, completely housebroken and a better traveler than some human beings I know.
Since I could bring Banana almost everywhere with me, escapades were a breeze. She got used to car and boat rides in no time – there were no accidents or dizzy spells for this wanderer on the two-and-half-hour drive to Anilao, Batangas, or on the roll-on-roll-off car and bus ferry to Puerto Galera, Mindoro.
Banana adored the ocean, and took every opportunity to get into the water. Her vet even suggested leaving her coat unrinsed for a couple of day after a beach trip, as the saltwater was good for her skin.
One summer, I scratched an item off my bucket list and booked us a trip to the ultimate beach paradise, Boracay. Just my dog and me. Banana was classified as cargo, though the cost was just a little less than that of a plane ticket. The flight was terribly delayed, but Banana was so good-natured, the airport counter staff let us camp out on the floor in front of them (after taking numerous photos with her).