I flew to Arizona this week. Just me, about 250 other passengers, and three DOGS! That’s right, DOGS, right there among the rest of the passengers.

Now that may not seem like much of a problem to those of you that don’t mind dog crap in the middle of the isle or an occasional bark when the altitude drops precariously. But I have a dog allergy. And I mean an allergy that causes me to accumulate about a quart of snot over a short airplane trip to the Southwest.

I brought the problem to the attention of the flight attendent and I was informed that if it was a problem, I was the one who would have to deboard the airplane and I would be assisted finding a different flight. “The dogs had the right to fly with their owners.”

And the one I was initially expected to sit next to was a “service dog.” Her owner needed the dog to remind her (and I am not kidding here) when to take her medicine. THE PASSENGER WAS 25!

Are you kidding me? If you’re 25 and need a damn dog to remind you when to take your medicines you shouldn’t be on an airplane. And, how in the hell does a dog know what time it is?

Although this may seem funny. It isn’t. People, and especially children, die from asthma every year. I know, I have lost a young patient this way. What would happen if I had severe asthma and found myself in this precarious situation? I was able to just cough and sneeze for a couple of hours until I could get to my allergy medications stowed away in my luggage.

I am filing a complaint with the airline-like that will get me anywhere. I may decide to have my physician give me permission to take my service alligator. It will remind me when I may be seated too close to a lap dog.