A year's events, and a lot of brainstorming brought me to decide to relocate myself to Dallas/Fort Worth and a new page in life. Once the decision was made to close the business and move on, there was much to do in preparation for the move. Many things did not come to fruition and a plan-b was necessary. The current economic trend is in a large part responsible for the failure to sell any major personal or business assets. I couldn't even finding a suitable new home for the cat, Caline.
It's time to fly. All the suitcases are packed. The apartment's electricity is off. The water heater is drained of hot water. The is water shut off. The plants off the balcony are in the good hands of the key holder. The cat, Caline, however is not cooperating. She has since last night, refused to eat. She won't take that tempting morsel I've spiked with a sleeping tablet... Finally, with no time left to wait, it's off to a hastily called, close-by and very nice veterinarian. I need help administering her sleeping tablet. It took both the doctor and her assistant to get the pill down Caline's throat, drooling and squirming as she does.
That was at 9H30. One hour later she is more agitated still in her airline carrier as we drive to Charles-de-Gaulle. Thankfully, the security check goes as planned, everything through the tunnel and only a bit of grumbling by the security agents at the end of the line. I get my shoes quickly on, pick up all the bags before they say anything to me directly and we are on our way. At 11H45 sitting at the departure gate, Caline continues making repeated attempts to escape. The effect of the sleeping tablets seems to be null, but she is in the carrier and that is the important thing.
12H40 Caline has resigned herself to the inevitable and has stopped clawing the walls of the carrier. Soon after we board and the pet carrier fits neatly under the seat in front. It's 45cmx25x25xm dimensions work well in spite of a bothersome footrest taking up some space. Instead of taking off, we sit on the tarmac for a full hour before spending an uneventful flight talking about life in Florida where my seat neighbor resides.
Upon arrival in Atlanta, Caline meets the animal customs agents. All her paperwork being in order, we are free to leave the international arrivals terminal. Thankfully, they did not request I remove her from her kennel. After 12 hours in her kennel she is not happy and is only waiting for the moment of escape. As for me, I groggily forge on, elated that travel with Caline has gone this well. I drop off my big suitcase and proceed on to the inter-terminal train, hand luggage on one shoulder, cat carrier on the other and backpack...well, on my back. Beginning the next day at the hotel, my aching shoulder and arms will remind me dearly for days of that long unavoidable trek through Atlanta airport.
At domestic terminal E, we go through security once more, and I put the whole lot of bags on the belt, laptop, backpack, shoes, cabin bag, cat carrier... and find it all on the other side. The security agent gives my a dirty look at seeing the cat on his screen and scolds me for it , for not removing him first. I play dumb. He gives me "an education" in what to do next time I take along a pet. I give a nod.
The flight from Atlanta is uneventful though I do hear Caline scratching and trying to escape. She's been confined for many hours and becoming more and more agitated. Finally, we begin our final descent to Fort Worth, seat belts fastened, tray tables up, seats backs straight. The aisle stretches to the front on a downhill incline. Having chosen an aisle seat in order to have some leg room in spite of the kennel, we have a good view of landing procedures. About 15min before we touch down, a streak of calico orange, black and white, snakes, running belly to the ground, all the way to the pilots' doors. A gasp of surprise arises from the half-sleeping passengers.
A new kind of terrorist attack you say? No, it's just Caline, the cat, breaking free at last, racing down the aisle to what she believes is a safe haven. The collective gasp is followed by a collective burst of laughter, and the cry of, "the cat's out of the bag". I remain impassible but inwardly wondering, what now. She is now battering her little paws on the captain's door, with nowhere else to go. The hostess addresses us on the public address system, asking: "Has any passenger lost a cat?". I don't answer, but rather press the steward light button above my seat to indicate my position.
After a few minutes, during which I wonder if I should go fetch the cat but decide against it unless directed to, a stewardess appears in the aisle, carrying the cat against her chest and saying, "The poor thing is very scared". I have the carrier open and proceed to secure the zippers as this time, she rushes into her kennel. I feel relief, wondering, if she would try to escape again, now she's seen it's far more frightening outside the kennel than inside.
We retrieve the rental car around 22H00 after the longest shuttle to a car rental center I've ever taken. Must be the enormous jet lag I'm feeling after so many hours. Let's hope I can find the hotel in the dark.
After checking in at my hotel, I take Caline to the veterinary kennels/hospital down the road. She needs some downtime and so do I. Around midnight, I am in my room again.
What a trip. And the adventure is only beginning...
