What It’s Like to Fly Bark Air, the First-in-Class Airline for Dogs (and Their People) | Vogue
Dogue What It’s Like to Fly Bark Air, the First-in-Class Airline for Dogs (and Their People)
By Alessandra Codinha August 18, 2025
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Watching the Rocky Mountains recede into the distance from the cushioned comfort of a Gulfstream GV, one can easily find oneself reconsidering the feasibility of a bicoastal commute. I turn to my companion, a stoic and stately blonde with a soulful stare. “This is totally doable, right? Like, we could do this regularly if we had to?” He exhales in response, a damp snort.
A flight attendant appears bearing a silver-domed tray and balletically lowers herself to lap height. Actually, kind of below. Well, now she’s on the floor. But of course, it’s not for me, this platter of temporarily hidden delights: She raises the lid and points its contents at my seatmate, who enthusiastically, and without much pausing for things like chewing or breath (let alone politesse), scarfs down far more than his designated share of cylindrical rolls of Beefy Meat Hunks. At the center of the platter is a brown leather loafer. This—like the bone-broth “champagne” service that preceded it—is not about me or what I might consider plane (or regular) etiquette. This is Bark Air. This is for the dogs.
Inside a Bark Air flight. Photo: Joe Gall / Courtesy of Bark Air
Some background: I am a dog person of, I would say, exceptionally good standing, meaning I have been devoted to mine, Hugo (a wonderful golden retriever, my frequent subject, and the obliging blonde of the above paragraph), for the near entirety of the 11-plus years of his life. When we lived in New York, my partner and I drove many miles and hours out of our way over the years to ferry him to his (human) grandparents in Massachusetts and Michigan, respectively, and have driven many thousands more getting him back and forth across the country since we moved to Los Angeles four years ago. We three have driven cross-country at least five separate times, with stops in our nation’s wonderful national parks (pet-friendly up to a point) and some of its weirder roadside attractions. He has swum in all of the Great Lakes except one (Lake Erie, it’s just never been convenient) and has stayed in many of the finer hotels across our great nation—the perks of having an occasional travel writer as a mother.
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