It was all very dramatic and stressful. She had me convinced that Keith, whom we liked because now we were sitting in the comfy seats, was a cat killer. Or at least aiding and abetting someone who had it in for our cats. In reality, Keith just wanted us to pull away from the gate so he had an on time departure. He kept asking if we would fly without the cats, so they could offload our luggage and get this plane going.
The captain got on the phone to say that they wanted the cats to be loaded. He had to call Atlanta, the hub, where the first phone call had originated. Finally they got everything set and we were off, Mature Flight Attendant kept walking by me, hissing that I should never fly with the animals this way again. They should come in the plane, no matter what. They will die in there and no one will care. I decided that she was a crazy cat lady and thanked her for all her help and mentally wrote her off.
|Where we spent almost 6 hours waiting for the cats.|
Three hours later I went it to ask about a bathroom. I asked Peter the driver to ask her where the toilet was, because there was clearly nothing in the waiting area. Peter’s English is pretty poor, so he said something to her in Hungarian, and she looked at me and held up her thumb. “One hour.”