All of the FedEx men who entered the plane with Justin were dressed in western style except for one, who wore the traditional Arab clothing of full-length robe and white cotton headscarf. He stepped forward and asked for our travel documents. While he shuffled through the pages of our passports, Justin asked if he could meet our traveling companions.
"These are good-looking animals," he exclaimed as we made our way down the aisle. "I can see why the soldiers took a liking to them."
"Where are your stamps from Iraq?" the man with our passports interrupted, a puzzled expression on his face.
"We never got any," Bev and I said in unison.
"No one stamped your passport when you arrived in Baghdad or departed?"
"No," I replied. All of a sudden I remembered Tom Hanks's movie, Terminal, in which his documentation problem left him stranded in the airport for months.
"How did you get in and out of the country?" he asked, even more puzzled now.
"Well, we were on a kind of long layover."
"Okay, come with me," he insisted and motioned for us to follow. I hesitated and looked at Justin.
"It's all right," Justin assured us. "I'll stay here and get the animals squared away."
Bev and I grabbed our carry-on luggage and followed the man, who, still clutching our passports, led us over to the FedEx building and into Justin's office.
"Wait here while I see what I can do," he said. He left the room and closed the door behind him.
"Well, this is interesting," I said to Bev. "Makes you feel like we just committed some crime or something, doesn't it?"
"Do you think he'll be able to get this straightened out?"
"Of course! So far, everyone at FedEx has proven they have a'can do' attitude."
An hour later the door swept open without warning, making Bev and me jump. Were the immigration officials coming to take us away?
Our white-robed FedEx friend entered with a big smile on his face.
"Follow me. We've got this all ironed out."
Wondering what exactly they had done but afraid to ask, Bev and I followed the man to the car. He drove us to the Customs and Immigration building and led us inside. A uniformed man greeted us and spoke to our chaperone in Arabic. After much discussion, nodding of heads, and direct glances at us, followed by more discussion, the uniformed man stamped our passports. We weren't going to jail after all!
As soon as we returned, Justin caught up with us. Bev and I blurted out at the same time, "How are the animals?"
"They're on their way to the quarantine kennel now. They looked a little bewildered when we unloaded them, but other than that, they seemed to be doing okay."
"When can we see them?" I asked.
"First we need to get you temporary FedEx IDs so you can enter the quarantine kennel; that means we'll have to get passport photos taken. Come with me; I'll take you to the mall."
Visiting a mall was certainly not what Bev and I had expected to be doing in Dubai, and the city's traffic put Los Angeles rush hour to shame. As Justin's car crept along the busy streets, all Bev and I could think about were the animals. How were they doingespecially Tom?
Justin filled the time by pointing out all the construction going on in the city. Bev commented on the fact that everywhere we looked, Dubai citizens were dressed in high fashion, designer clothes and driving Mercedes or other expensive cars. I pulled out my Blackberry and checked my e-mails, but two hours after landing in Dubai, no news had come through about the French.
We wove our way through a throng of shoppers at the huge, impressive mall. Expecting Justin to bring us to a photography studio, I was surprised when he stopped beside a photo booth. It was one of those booths you'd see at a fair where you put your five bucks in, stare at a camera, smile, wait for the click, and three minutes later a strip of pictures shoots out. Bev stepped in first while Justin fed the machine-but it kept spitting the money back out.
"It must be broken. Don't worry; there's another one at the other end of the mall," he said, his voice cheerful and confident. Justin's high energy made just about anything seem possible.
Back through the crowd we went. Bev and I looked at each other.
How much longer is this going to take?
When the second booth proved to be in working order, we grabbed our strips of photos and just about ran back to the car. By the time we reached the FedEx building, we had been separated from the animals for nearly three hours.
"Let me check to see if there is any news about the French," Justin said, heading to his office. "I'll be quick, I promise."
"I got an e-mail from Dave," Justin announced as he returned to the lobby where we were waiting.
"Please tell me the French have reconsidered," I said.
"No, but Dave has arranged a conference call with the French ambassador to the U.S. Army."
"That sounds hopeful," I replied.
"Since we can't get you out of here today, I'll get someone to drive you to the hotel where we'll book you in for the night, and you can drop off your bags because you can't take them into the quarantine kennel. After you're settled, our driver will take you to visit the animals."
Justin left us in the hands of another FedEx employee, who drove us through the relentless traffic once again. He was tall, slender, and wore an Australian outback hat, which looked a bit odd with his Arabic features. I felt bad that Bev and I seemed to be monopolizing everyone's time, and I apologized to our quiet driver.
"Please," he said, "we are the ones who should apologize. All this running around must be very stressful for you. But don't worry; no matter what happens, we will take care of you as if you were family." A few minutes later the gracious driver pulled up to our hotel entrance. "Ladies, feel free to take your time. I will be waiting here for you whenever you are ready."
Everything seemed to be working against us getting back to the airport and finding our animals. Check-in took forever. Even the elevator moved from one floor to the next as if some old man were pulling it by a rope, hand over hand. When we got to our room, Bev and I just tossed our suitcases inside the door and hurried back down the stairs.
Between the traffic and road repairs, we spent more time sitting in one place than we did moving. I wondered if it would have been faster to walk back to the airport. It wasn't until we reached the airport that we learned the quarantine section was another twenty minutes away.
"Here we are!" At long last the driver's words sang out and he flashed a white-toothed smile from under his outback hat. He stopped the car in front of a block-long warehouse.
I had been feeling somewhat impatient while we were running to the mall and back, but at the same time, felt grateful for what everyone at FedEx was doing. Now I was only concerned about the animals. Their owners were also anxiously waiting for word about their dog or cat.
What was I going to say? I haven't seen your buddy now for almost five hours, so I haven tgot a clue how they're doing. Those e-mails would have to wait.
"The quarantine kennel is through those double doors," our driver pointed as we stood beside him in the huge warehouse. "Then you make an immediate right. You'll see it on the right."
Before we could follow his instructions, I happened to glance to our left, and sitting on a nearby loading dock were our twenty-six dogs and two cats, still in their crates, strapped onto the pallets and covered in netting. No one had let them out.
"Oh, no. Look!" Bev and I all but ran to the animals. Thankfully, on first inspection the entire group seemed fine, even Tom. Our FedEx driver was just as surprised as we were that the warehouse staff had not moved the animals into the quarantine kennel. When FedEx dropped them off, the cargo handlers had assured them that the animals would be seen to promptly.
Considering the extraordinary measures that FedEx employees had taken every step of the way to ensure the animals' safety, our driver must have been just as frustrated as Bev and I to discover they'd been overlooked.
We needed to get the an
imals out of the crates as quickly as possible. They all needed a potty break and a meal. Our faithful driver located a warehouse worker and explained the urgency of the situation. After the worker located several employees to help move the animals, we thanked the driver for his kindness, and he returned to the FedEx office.
The quarantine kennel turned out to be one room containing four dog runs, each about six feet by four feet. Four cat-sized cages sat at one end of the room above a larger cage where a dog was already situated. The open space in the center was maybe one hundred square feet at best, approximately ten by ten. Anyone with claustrophobia would have had one hell of an attack. Bev and I looked at each other and then at the animals, who had no one but us to rely on. We had to figure out a way to make this work; what choice did we have?
Our first decision was to put Beatrice and her pups into the largest run. Poor thing, when we put her into the run, the pups pounced all over her. All the puppies had messed in their crates, so their fur was matted and streaked with poop. We'd have to give them a babywipe bath as soon as we could.
Mama Leesa, Diwo, and Crusader went into the second run. They had become fast friends during the time they hung out in Dutch's office. Longtime friends Rosie and Roxy got the third run. We decided to use the last run as a dog-walk area and lined the floor with puppy training pads, which we had brought from the States. We fed the dogs and cats some dry food we had packed. Although Bev tried, she couldn't get Tom to eat. If we stayed in Dubai much longer, I'd have to figure out where to get more food.
We finally let the remaining fifteen dogs take turns to relieve themselves and stretch their legs in the small run. I wished I could have assured them that the worst was behind us, but I really had no clue as to what lay ahead. I had been monitoring my Blackberry all day, and still there was no news from France.
Bev and I were just getting Samantha back into her cleaned crate when a young man and woman in casual clothes entered the quarantine kennel carrying a large bag of dry dog food.
"We heard about you and all the animals from Iraq," the young man said as he put the food down. "We thought you might need some help. When animals are in transit, we take care of them until they leave."
"We sure could use some help," Bev replied. "Any chance you have a way to get a hold of a veterinarian? We have a cat that needs to be seen."
The woman pulled out her cell phone and called the vet. "He will be here in about an hour," she said after hanging up. "In the meantime, we brought some cleaning supplies, too. Can we help you clean the crates?"
"Yes, please! Any chance we could take the dogs outside for a proper walk?" I asked. "It's awfully cramped in here."
"Sorry," the guy said. "All animals in transit have to remain in the quarantine kennel."
With our new helpers, we got through the remaining dogs much faster. By the time we finished, the dogs and cats seemed fairly content, considering what they had been through so far.
The veterinarian finally arrived, and while he and Bev attended to Tom, I stepped outside to send an update to the owners. It was long overdue, and I needed to tell them we would not be leaving Dubai that day.
I also had to break the cost of our layover to JD without giving him a heart attack. Earlier I had received an e-mail with a cost breakdown from Jovitson Muthiah, the Middle East operations management specialist for FedEx.
From: Jovitson Muthiah, FedEx
To: Terri Crisp, SPCA International
June 3, 2008
Please note the breakdown of airport tariffs that have accrued for the twenty-eight animals:
• AVI storage charges: $27 per day/animal
• Kennel crew care: $950 per visit (it is recommended that kennel crew attend to the animals every eight hours)
• Veterinarian charge: $410 for the visit already made
• Delivery order charges: $25
• Agent handling charges: 0.05 cents/kg
• Agent storage charges: 0.05 cents/kg
Animals may not stay in the quarantine kennel for more than twenty-four hours. We are presently working on alternative arrangements. As you can see from the above, if we do not find a quick resolution we will not only jeopardize the safety of these animals but run into high costs for maintenance.
-Jovitson
Using my Blackberry, I calculated just the AVI storage and kennel crew charges for twenty-one days, the minimum time for getting rabies antibody blood test results. I was in absolute shock when I saw the amount-$75,726.
How can you soften that kind of news? Knowing it would be several hours before JD woke to read my e-mail, I prayed that Dave's string pullers were working overtime and that I would be able to write to JD, "Ignore my previous message; we're on our way home."
My next e-mail was to Justin. "Any word from Dave yet?"
"Nothing," was his reply. What he wrote next caught me off guard. "We've been tossing around some ideas to avoid going through France. There is another route. How does going through China sound?"
What would be worse, remaining in Dubai for nearly a month or traveling thousands of additional miles?
Justin ended the e-mail by saying, "We'll talk about it more in the morning."
It looked like a flight to the States was not happening anytime soon unless we went through China. If I was not mistaken, going through China was a whole lot farther-maybe twice as far. By this point I was so thoroughly drained that my ability to problem solve was completely maxed out.
I walked back to the quarantine kennel, and my head began to pound. Extreme heat, lack of sleep, and the relentless problems I'd been dealing with for weeks contributed to the pain. I really could have used a time-out, but that just wasn't an option.
If we were held over in Dubai for much longer than originally planned, I had another pressing problem. Bev couldn't stay more than a few days; she had to get back to work. Employers don't take kindly to people whose week of vacation suddenly stretches into three weeks or more; I had to figure out who could take her place. My daughter Jennifer was the logical choice. I decided not to call her until the next day. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to make that call.
"We found out what Tom's problem is," Bev said as I came through the door of the kennel. "He's got an abscess at the base of his tail that has become infected."
"I'm surprised we never saw it."
"He kept lying on it, so we couldn't. The vet cleaned it up, though, and he's going to bring back some antibiotics. I feel so bad that we couldn't do more for him." Bev's voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes.
"He'll pull through this, Bev. Don't worry." I mustered as much assurance as I could and gave her a hug. "Tom's a real survivor, just like all these animals are. It would take a lot to knock him down."
We'd been in Dubai for almost twelve hours. With all the animals tended to, we decided it was time to take care of us. Saying goodnight to each dog and cat, we promised we'd be back first thing in the morning. When we stepped outside, I couldn't believe how sweltering hot it still was. How people and animals survived this heat was beyond my understanding. I didn't want to stick around and find out either.
Back at the hotel, Bev staggered toward one bed, and I aimed for the other one. We collapsed onto the pure white duvets, fully clothed in what we'd worn for two hot, stinking days, boots included. Dirt, fur, and remnants of dog and cat excrement were forgotten. Thirty seconds later, Bev and I were sound asleep.
I woke to a pitch-black, air-conditioned room and, for a few seconds, had no idea where I was. I knew only that my body was freezing. Pulling the no-longer-white duvet over me, I was about to go back to sleep when Bev whispered, "Are you hungry?"
Bev turned on the table lamp and located the twenty-four-hour room service menu. Each item sounded better than the one before, so we ordered everything worth drooling over. Too tired to even consider which of us was going to shower first, we lay on our beds and stared at the ceiling, silent and motionless, until a knock on the door signaled food.
> Our feast tasted sinfully good. My taste buds danced from a savory bit of macaroni and cheese to chocolate decadence cake, to Greek salad, to veggie burger, to ice cream, to pizza, and back around again. Between bites, our whole conversation consisted of one word: "Mmmmm." When we couldn't stuff another thing down, Bev and I looked at each other and let out two moans. Seconds after the bedside light turned off, we were back in dreamland.
At 1:00 a.m. my Blackberry rang. Startled awake, I managed to get the phone to my ear.
Dave Lusk's voice said, "Are you awake?"
"Sort of," I yawned.
"Well, you need to be awake to hear what I have to say."
I sat up just as Bev rolled over and turned on the light. She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
"Okay, I'm awake and alert. What's up?"
"The French have waived the requirements."
I dropped my phone and covered my eyes with both hands as tears spilled down my cheeks. My relief was indescribable.
"Terri, are you there?"
"Dave," I said and picked my phone off the floor. "Did I hear you right? Is it really over? Are we going home?"
"Yes, you'll all be on the plane tomorrow."
For the next half-hour Bev and I danced around the room, called home, took showers, and finally, when all our energy was spent, went back to bed.
It turns out that while Bev and I were asleep, an unbelievable series of events had been transpiring on both sides of the Atlantic. While Dave was a guest at the U.S. Army War College's final week of security training, he had spoken with his friend, an Army Captain, about the French situation. Determined to help get the animals home, the Army Captain talked to one of his classmates knowing that this person had a working relationship with the Deputy Commandant for International Affairs. When the Captain's classmate asked the Deputy Commandant for help, he in turn reached out to an Attache at the U.S. Embassy in Paris. The Attache then intervened with a key person in the French Ministry of Agriculture. Between these two individuals, a workable compromise was finally agreed upon.
No Buddy Left Behind: Bringing U.S. Troops' Dogs and Cats Safely Home From the Combat Zone Page 20