The Ordeal

Cigarettes have been smoked, coffee has been consumed and a long sigh of relief is released as the Wife and I nurse the scratches on our hands.

We have our cats back, and it was nowhere near as straightforward as we were hoping. This was one of those moments were we truly felt the lack of not having a car.

The first bit was pretty straightforward. We actually managed to take the subway and ride it all the way down to the end of the west line, where a shuttle bus went down to Pearson International. However, the bus (quite sensibly) only went to the arrival/departure terminals whereas we needed to go to the cargo terminals to pick up Zero and Uno. After some muddling around, we found a desk with some official looking people behind it that told us there was a bus stop with a Mississauga bus that was supposed to stop around the cargo terminal area. The cargo terminal, we were told, was about a 2 mile walk away.

When we walked out to the intersection we were told to go to, we realized that we didn’t know which direction the bus was supposed to go. We asked someone who directed us to the other side of the street, but every bus that stopped told us they didn’t go to the cargo terminal when we asked for directions. So we tromped back to a parking lot that looked like it was reserved for taxis and vans taking people into the city by request, and asked for more directions. We were told where the terminal was, and found out the person at the bus stop we’d asked was dead wrong.

So we ended up walking the two miles just as the wind and the snow kicked up.

When we FINALLY arrived at the cargo terminal, we were told that while the cats had arrived, they hadn’t yet been inspected by a vet. All animals that come into Canada must be checked out and have their papers examined. The vet showed up a little while after we got there, and once he looked over the cats we had yet another brush with the silliness that we had left behind in Singapore. The pet movers, supposedly the best on the island, whom we had paid quite a bit of money to to ensure that everything would be taken care of and that our cats would arrive, had completely failed to actually get the cats vaccinated for rabies, a key point that they even told us would be required by Canadian quarantine and customs. While waiting, we’d already heard horror stories about animals that had to be sent back to their point of origin (at cost to the owners) because of failures to comply, but the vet, especially once he realized they’d flown all the way from Singapore, took pity on us. He filled out a form that now gives us two weeks to get the cats vaccinated or else face penalties.

Then we thought, “Thank God, that’s over,” and were hoping we’d get our cats.

But then the same vet said that now that he’d processed them and judged them admissible into Canada, we had to go BACK to a customs office to present the forms so that Canadian Customs could properly file them, and then come BACK to the cargo terminal to present said files and finally claim our cats.

The Customs Office was 10 kilometers away.

Once again, pity prevailed and when the vet found out that we didn’t have a car, he offered to drive me there. The Wife stayed put at the cargo terminal, still recovering from her first two mile walk in a light snow storm. I went down, showed off the forms, and was asked by the lady at the counter, “How much did you pay?”

“What?” I asked, not quite getting her.

“The cats. How much did you pay for these cats?”

“Uh… well, I got one at the SPCA and paid a small fee for release, like 20 bucks, I think. The other was a street cat, so she didn’t cost anything.”

She blinked a couple of times. “Why would you fly these cats all the way here when they didn’t cost that much?”

It was my turn to blink. “They’re my PETS. I couldn’t leave them behind.”

She shrugged in a “whatever” sort of way and processed them, telling me there would be a $90 customs charge. I brought the completed forms over to the cashier and she was a lot more sympathetic, basically cooing at the thought of poor Singapore cats all on their lonesome and saying stuff like “Of COURSE, you can’t leave your kitties behind! Who would do that?!”

From there, I called for a cab to take me back to the cargo terminal, and he was some laid back, interesting Slavic guy, I think. Probably an immigrant, his accent was still noticeable. He offered to wait there while we picked up the cats and drive us back into town and I wasn’t going to say no to that.

So I went back to the cargo terminal, presented the forms, paid out another $45 as a processing fee and the Wife and I went into the Warm Room (apparently they had a special room set up for small, live cargo) and promptly saw our two traumatized cats, although Zero was definitely the more shell shocked of the two. Big surprise there.

We loaded them up into the cab and rode back to the Annex where the Wife, just happy to finally have the cats back in one piece and be away from the airport, gave the cabbie a $10 tip, putting the total cab fare at just a little over $90.

We gave them a bath. I hope they don’t die from hypothermia. Uno, as usual, completely defeated the purpose of getting a bath by wetting herself in protest to the treatment. She also took out a piece of my left hand. And the Wife’s.

Now Zero is once again hiding under the couch. Uno is wandering around meowing and being incredibly clingy, since we’re the first familiar things she’s seen in two weeks.

I’m just so, so happy that’s over. At least until we get them their jabs.