How I smuggled a puppy past TSA

Sales is the most underrated life skill on the planet.

I'm going to prove it by telling you how I got an 8-week-old puppy through TSA two days before Christmas.

My wife and I decided to surprise our boys with a puppy for Christmas. And I got to pick the dog this time. She picked the last one — we love him, but he's a bit bonkers. So this round was on me.

I grew up with German Shepherds and wanted another big dog. A good friend of mine has Rhodesian Ridgebacks we love. So that's what we got.

The breeder was in Missouri. We live in Baja. A few days before Christmas, I flew up to grab him.

Here's where it got interesting.

At 8 weeks old, this dog was already too big for the largest TSA-approved carry-on you can buy. He fit in the bag — could lay down and sit if he hunched over — but TSA has rules where the dog has to stand up, turn around, do all of that. Zero chance he was passing.

I also wasn't about to drive five or six days from Missouri, through the U.S., down the Baja, with an 8-week-old puppy.

So I had to figure it out.

I had two checkpoints. American Airlines at the gate, and TSA at security.

American I felt okay about. Top-tier status for years. They have a vested interest in keeping me happy because I keep giving them money.

But I went in prepared.

I walk up. The agent says, “Oh, you have an animal? You'll need to fill out this form.” She looks down at the carry-on.

I started the story. Immediately.

“Yes ma'am, brand new puppy. 8 weeks old. My sons are at home, we're surprising them for Christmas. My wife's getting them ready for the moment I walk in the door later today. They have no idea.”

I was actually excited. So I painted the whole picture. Kids. Christmas. Family in town for the holidays. Surprise.

I did this knowing full well that if she decided to actually inspect the dog, make me pull him out, and run the test, I was going to fail. So I preempted it. I used what I know about psychology… and sold.

My family was better for it. The puppy was better for it. American Airlines was better for it.

And it worked.

But American wasn't the real test. TSA was.

TSA doesn't give a shit about me. I don't pay them (sensitive topic, let’s move on from that one). They have zero financial interest in whether I get on that plane.

So this one, I had to bring my A-game.

Walk up. First in line. They mention the dog. I start telling the story again — and this time another TSA agent overhears me and walks over.

“Oh — can we see the puppy?”

I don't know if she wants to pet him because it's an 8-week-old puppy two days before Christmas, or because she wants to run the formal test.

Doesn't matter. Same playbook either way.

“Yeah, of course.”

As I unzip the crate, I’ve got an upbeat tone. Excited. I'm telling them how my kids have no idea, how we've been planning this for a couple months, how we had to time the whole thing perfectly for later today because we’ve got family in town.

For the record — this isn't fake. I'm actually that excited. Everything I said was true. But I needed to make sure I conveyed it.

Halfway through the story, one of the agents is holding the puppy up next to her face going, “I need me a puppy for Christmas too.”

They got engaged. They got into it. They let me through.

Shadow made it home. Kids were elated. Went perfectly.

That whole experience? That's sales.

When you truly understand sales, you understand storytelling. You understand body language. You understand tonality. You understand how to anticipate objections before they come up. You understand the psychology of motivation — where there's alignment, and where there isn't.

And once you understand all of that, you stop treating sales like a four-letter word. Because you realize we're all selling. All the time.

You have something you want to sell right now. I'm selling this idea to you as you read this.

If you have a job, you're selling your manager on your ideas, on your performance, on keeping you employed, on giving you the next promotion. If you own a business, you're selling all day — your team on the vision, your business to other businesses, your spouse on why you're spending so much time and energy building it.

And if you're not in either? You're still selling. My wife sells me all the time. So do my kids. Hell, my dogs sell me.

Sales isn't pushing products people don't want with strong-arm tactics to grab a commission check. That's the version that's been projected for decades, and a lot of people have bought it.

But that's the exception. Not the rule.

Sales is a skill that runs through virtually every aspect of life. And I have trouble thinking of a single person who doesn't benefit from getting better at it.

I can think of plenty of people, though, who've been limited in their lives and businesses because they bought into the idea that sales means getting what you want at someone else's expense.

That's just not the case.

I'm an introvert. I was never a natural-born salesperson. I had to learn the technical side of this the hard way. And maybe that’s why I appreciate the value of the skill as much as I do.

Because if I’d been a natural, extroverted, charismatic personality who came by sales naturally, I might take it for granted.

But if I’d chosen to shun sales as something sleazy and manipulative because I had to actually try to do it well, I would’ve missed out on developing the highest leverage skill I can think of.

So if you're technical, engineer-minded, operational by nature — the kind of person who's read this far thinking, “Yeah, but I'm just not a sales guy” — reconsider what sales actually is.

Embrace it as a life skill. Something that can absolutely be learned. Something that creates alignment, growth, and yes — profit.

And once you get good at it, it might also help you get your dog home for Christmas.

Adios,

Ray

P.S. — 3 of our 4 dogs in the picture above back in December. And yesterday we said goodbye to one of them, Teddy.

RIP Big Man.