AKITA DOG to the YUCATAN Part 1

I don’t bother trying to explain why “Saki” and I took an adventure to one of the most beautiful tropical regions on the Caribbean coast without my wife. It’s enough to explain why I took my dog, and I’ve been asked at least ten dozen times.

I’ve studied the Indians of Mexico and especially the Mayans of the Yucatan peninsula and I needed a quick trip to break the ice before I tackled more extensive trips deeper into the denser jungles in search of ruins. I had been into the northern regions of Mexico and the Baja coast frequently but never into the Yucatan, especially without the comfort of several companions. This, along with the current uproar about the danger of molestation, well, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

As it turned out, “Saki”, my one hundred pound plus, tough-looking, but wouldn’t hurt a flea, Akita was a definite asset.

About a week before departure day, my travel agent began finding the proper documents and procedures necessary for transporting dogs by air to a foreign country.

We began by contacting the Mexican Consulate in El Paso, Texas. I found the young lady there very sincere and helpful and got the instructions over the phone. Next, we contacted American Airlines for further instructions.

As it turned out, the process was very simple and the only requirements were an up-to-date health certificate from Saki’s vet, a Mexican Consulate stamp and signature on the reverse side, crate satisfactory to the airlines, eleven dollars for the Mexicans and forty-eight dollars for American Airlines.

I decided to spend a few extra bucks and fly American instead of Mexican from Juarez and change planes at Dallas/Ft. Worth where they always let me inspect the transfer of Saki to the next plane instead of Mexico City and wondering where my buddy was or if he was.

So, it was El Paso to Dallas to Cancun to Akumal.

My first hitch came at the Cancun Airport. As I was rolling Saki’s crate out the airport door to the taxi ramp, I was spotted by the Livestock Inspector who promptly left his Back Gammon game and stopped me right at the exit where I made as big a pedestrian jam as I could. He proceeded to tell me that Saki’s passport was valid only for Mexico City and that I could not take him out of the airport, and that I should take him out of the crate for his inspection. By now the crowd was getting rather large behind us and had begun to push around. It seemed that I had three options. Try to debate in my unfortunate Spanish, come up with some “mordida”, usually about one thousand pesos plus, or play dumb. When they have played dumb with me, it usually worked, so why not? “Me no sabi, Me no sabi” I would repeat with each of his questions, and since he showed no compulsion to reach into the crate to take Saki out, he gave me a frustrated look and returned to the Back Gammon game.

Next I found a taxi driver willing to take us to Akumal, eighty miles south of Cancun down the coast toward Belize.

After the airport ordeal I was a little tense, but soon relaxed because Saki became the center of attention as each of the taxi drivers took turns holding him while I collapsed his crate and loaded our gear into the Volkswagen Van.

I had cleared the no animal rule with the resort reservation service prior to leaving, but there are no phones in Akumal or at the Hotel Carribe and so how was the desk clerk, Fernando, to know? After being politely told that dogs were not allowed, I went into my routine that we had been given permission, that Saki was a highly-trained dog, that we were here to do a photographic session and furthermore, I would pay for any damages done, which he wouldn’t to, and have him stay in his crate while in the room, which he didn’t do.

Apparently, the part about paying for any damages impressed him.