We are still wrapping up family business in Oak Harbor WA. Soon we will be on the road traveling and blogging again.
In the meantime, we would like to present part 2 of Dennie's story on Quaise the cat.
In August, the time came for Quaise and I to return to the U.S. as my contract was ending. I returned to the veterinarian from where I had adopted Quaise and inquired how to get my feline friend back home. The vet told me that either way, Quaise had to stay at his facility for 24 hours so he could make sure he was disease free. He informed me that there were two different ways to obtain the required paperwork. The first was to take about a week of running around to the various government offices around the city, try to find the appropriate officials to sign the forms and then only if they really wanted to. This would cost me $200 or more, depending. The second option was to pay him $100, he would make contact with his sources, "negotiate" with the right people and get my papers signed and stamped. This would take 1 day and I could pick Quaise up the following day. Presented with the two choices, obviously I chose the latter. I left Quaise with him and picked him up the following afternoon, complete with all required forms. Anybody who has spent any amount of time in the region knows that this is just "business as usual". Quaise now had a "passport" along with picture, stamps and signatures.
Later that week, I contacted the airlines and made reservations for Quaise. The airlines official told me that there would be no difficulties getting him to the States. I should have known this was too good to be true. On my day of departure, prior to leaving for the airport, I gave him a tranquilizer that the vet had given me. About 30 minutes later, Quaise was feeling no pain. One eye was going one way, and the other eye was going the other. His normal loud "meow" had a very tranquil sound to it. He was, to say the least, "mellow". We got to the airport, him in his shipping cage, and I approached the airlines counter and told the agent my name and that I had a reservation for my cat. He said that he had my name on the list, but there was no reservation for a cat and that there was nothing he could do about it. I put 3 credit cards on the counter and told him that I was not leaving without my cat. He gave me the typical bureaucratic look and said "sorry". We had a situation. I didn't know which way to turn, because I had to leave the country on my assigned flight. There was no choice on that one.
About this time, my friend and translator that I had worked with for the year arrived. He asked me if everything was going as planned. I explained the problem and he approached the ticket country. Now let me tell you about Monier. He had told me before that he was the 4th or 5th Great, Great Grandson of the first king of Saudi Arabia. Needless to say, his family name held a lot of clout. I watched him as he argued with the same counter manager that I had spoken with. I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet and show the man his I.D. card. The mans eyes got as big as silver dollars, he turned rather pale, and smiled and handed Monier a ticket. My friend then returned to me and said that the situation was resolved. He handed me the ticket for Quaise. When I asked him how much it would cost, he told me that it was all taken care of, his present to me and Quaise. He then asked me, "by the way...what is Quaise's last name?". I told him I guessed the same as mine, just had never thought of it before. He told me to give Quaise his family name, but not to tell his grandfather as he was a very old man, and would have a heart attack if he knew a cat had the royal name. He then smiled at me, shook my hand and gave me a hug, reached in and scratched Quaise's ear and told me to have a good trip to America and to keep in touch. Good friends are so hard to find and Monier was one of the best.
We got on the plane and the flight attendant informed me that Quaise's ticket was for the seat next to me. For the next 8 hours, Quaise Al Gatani rode in style, occasionally letting out a muted "meow" but mostly sleeping off the tranquilizer.
Upon arrival in the U.S.A. we were met by a friend who had rented a cabin in the Pennsylvania mountains so we could "depressurize" from a year in the Kingdom. It was a nice relief to see trees and green for a change and Quaise seemed to enjoy his new environment. We left a week later for my home in Alabama. When I arrived, I let him out of his cage and, like his attitude showed a year before, he strutted into the center of the living room floor, sat down and, in true cat fashion, began to clean himself. We were finally home. And the story continues, each day, living with a Saudi cat in America.
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