Authors: Terri Crisp; C. J. Hurn
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.
The outcome, Dave told me, was that Operation Patriot Pets would be allowed to make a stopover in Paris. The veterinary officials would not interfere as long as we stuck to our flight schedule and kept the animals on the plane at all times. I wondered if this would jeopardize FedEx's relationship with French officials at the airport, but Dave assured me that FedEx's reputation would remain in good standing.
Buddha, one of twenty-eight animals stuck in Dubai Bev Westerman
Tight quarters in Dubai airport quarantine kennel Bev Westerman
Considering the U.S. military's ban against befriending or assisting stray animals in the war zone, it was particularly gratifying to know that the people who got the ball rolling when we were stuck were members of the U.S. military. Their actions saved these animals' lives when they stepped up to do the right thing.
"We did it!"- Bev and Terri finally landed in Newark, New Jersey. Bev Westerman
she saying, "What a difference a day makes," never rang as true as it did the next morning when Bev and I entered the quarantine kennel. Such a happy chorus greeted us; we swore the animals knew we were leaving that day. I don't know who was more excited-the animals or us.
The anticipation of heading home gave us the energy we needed to water and feed, clean crates, and walk dogs in the miniature run. Even Tom perked up; his antibiotics seemed to be doing the trick.
When Justin offered to let us hang out at the FedEx office until our flight, I said, "Thanks, but no thanks." I was not letting those animals out of my sight until I saw every one of them safely boarded on the FedEx plane for our 2:00 p.m. departure. I am not a pessimist by nature, but given how often we found another fly in the ointment, I could not believe we were home free yet.
The only downside of leaving in the mid afternoon was the heat. Just before we transferred the animals back to the FedEx location, we filled all their water bowls and soaked the absorbent puppy pads that lined the airline crates. Since we'd have access to the animals during the flight, we could switch the wet pads for dry ones when we reached cruising altitude.
"It's time to go," I said to Bev after the last animal was loaded for the ride across the airport. As our driver took us back to the FedEx office, all I could think about were our twenty-eight charges. These animals had been the focus of my life for twenty-two days, and they had become as much a part of my heart as my animals at home. There wasn't much that Bev or I wouldn't have done to protect them, and from the trusting looks in their eyes, we concluded they knew it.
Just before departure I grabbed my Blackberry to turn it off and found an e-mail message from Dave. All it said was, "Fly safe, and bring those animals home."
During the flight we made regular checks on our passengers, and the animals were always glad to hear us coming as we squeezed sideways down the tight maze between giant stacks of other palleted cargo. A chorus of barks, whines, yelps, and even meows heralded our arrival. The FedEx crew in Dubai had packed seven or eight crates per metal pallet and had carefully configured them to give us easy access to each animal. Feeding and cleaning up after twenty-six dogs and two cats at thirty-five thousand feet were new experiences for Bev and me, and we were having the time of our lives.