Dog on airplane

What does a dog think about while he's 35,000 feet in the air, trapped in a crate? Is he fearful? Hungry? Cranky because he's not in first class?
These are thoughts I had today because one of our company's executives, when she was in town last week, adopted a dog. Dog's name is Scrumpy. (I'm doing well to remember that part; there's a longer version.) She and her husband had been in the market for a dog and our publisher took her to PAWS while here.
It's such a great place, and one of the local charities we support. (In fact, Bisquick the fat cat came from there.) After Lynn signed everything for Scrumpy, he had to go to the vet's and get cleaned up, etc. Lynn, being here only a couple days from California, had to go back sans Scrumpy. The earliest that Scrumpy could get on a plane was this morning.
Meanwhile, I got to walk with him some yesterday; and we said our good-byes. He's a very curious dog. Sniffed at everything.
Valerie, who had charged of him for about a week, delivered him early, early, early to Air Cargo at Hartsfield for his flight. He made it safe and sound. (This is Lynn with him in photo.)
He'll have such a happy home. I understand he has two dog beds and toys. Must make the long plane ride worth it.