Let me start this story by saying that insanity probably runs in my family.
Really, there's no other possible explanation for the hare-brained scheme I'm
about to reveal. All I can say is that I had the best of intentions for
attempting what I did, even if the act itself was borderline criminal.
Timeline: October 1988
I just spent four years in Alaska and I came away with a big-time craving to
defrost my bones. And there's no better place for that than Maui, Hawaii. The
sun always shines in paradise. And lucky for me, paradise is where my sister and
her husband lived. When they invited, I didn't hesitate.
Well, that's not entirely true. There was one problem. I had a much beloved
tabby cat and his name was Oscar.
The problem, as I saw it, was the state of Hawaii. They had this unbelievable
law about bringing pets to their islands. Under the guise of rabies control they
enforce a Livestock Quarantine. Back then it was a 4 month incarceration in a
critter penitentiary, all to ensure no animal came to Hawaii with the dreaded
rabies virus. And they charged pet owners over $700 to do it.
I was horrified. I mean, I hate rabies and all, who doesn’t? But I also hated
the idea of Oscar being stuck alone in a cage for 4 long months. You know how
long that is in cat time? 3 ½ years! Plus, the 16 acre compound rivaled Ft. Knox
with its security systems, sky high fences capped with razor wire, and row after
row of cages, kennels, and check points.
Hawaii was serious about being rabies free. I was serious about Oscar not
enduring hard time at Kitty Penn. So I began to form a plan to bypass
quarantine. It took me a couple days, but I hit upon something completely
foolproof.
What if I pretended to be pregnant and smuggled my cat in under a giant
maternity top? No one would dare question that, right?
The more I thought on it, the more I liked it. I was in Seattle, along with
my brother and his wife, so I ran the idea by them. At first they freaked, but I
eventually won them over with the simplicity of my devious plan. Plus, my
sister-in-law had to play a key role. She’d had a baby, I had not. I needed her
expertise.
A trip to the local thrift store got me a maternity outfit and one of those
baby snuggle harnesses that straps across your shoulders to rest your bundle of
joy in front of you. Confident in my cleverness I raced back to my brother’s
place, sewed up the leg holes and donned the snuggie first, then the new outfit.
It was perfect. After my sister-in-law drilled me on the oh-my-aching-back walk,
I perfected it too.
The real kink in my plan was Oscar. He hated the snuggie with a passion. But
I expected that, so step two involved the services of a qualified veterinarian.
My brother had a friend in the business, so I made an appointment. Then I lied
like the total schemer I was and told him Oscar needed sleeping pills because
the sweet kitty wasn’t a good flyer. He needed to be totally knocked-out for at
least 5 hours, the span of airtime between Seattle and Maui.
Here’s where I felt the first twinge of guilt. The vet gave me a few pills
for free. I mean really, if one is going to break the law, one should at least
pay for the drugs needed to complete the dirty deed.
Travel day arrived. The pills took 45 minutes to take affect, the same amount
of time it took to drive to the airport. So while my brother loaded my suitcases
into the car, I battled Oscar to make him swallow the drug. Naturally I won, but
Oscar was deeply furious in the way felines can sometimes be. And he knew how to
hold a grudge.
By the time we arrived at Sea-Tac airport I sensed the beginnings of a
serious problem. I stared Oscar eyeball to eyeball and he wasn’t the least bit
sleepy. Even worse, fire and brimstone stared back. Still, I didn’t panic. The
vet said I could break another pill in half if the first one didn’t knock him
right out, so that’s what I did.
Forcing that pill down Oscar’s throat was my second mistake. Fifteen minutes
passed as we waited in the car, then I tried to tuck him into the snuggie again.
He wasn't going for it. In fact, he fought back with an unholy howl, flattened
ears, and claws primed for battle. Rosemary’s baby didn’t plan to cooperate.
Credit:
www.meankitty.com
I conceded defeat and purchased an overpriced cardboard kennel from the
airlines, paid another $128 bucks to buy Oscar a ticket, and sheepishly board
the plane in my fake maternity clothes.
I believe the airlines suspected my criminal intent, but they didn’t press
the issue. Of course, today they would’ve hauled me off in handcuffs, but back
then they just took my money with a few well-placed dirty looks. I more than
paid for my deceit though. The entire flight I worried about Oscar and the
amount of sleeping pills he’d taken. When we arrived on Maui I demanded to see
him before they shuffled him over to Oahu for the quarantine.
Turns out Oscar was still wide-awake, still spitting mad, and would barely
even acknowledge me as the attendant carried him away to serve hard time in the
slammer. I was certain he’d be scarred for life, heaven knew I was, but there
was nothing I could do. So I settled into an apartment and spent countless hours
on the beach reflecting over the previously unknown criminal aspect of my
personality.
Over the next 4 months I flew to Oahu several times to visit Oscar. Truth be
told, he had a pretty nice kitty condo with several levels and a big tree branch
to climb and scratch on. He was well fed, the enclosure always clean, and though
I hated to admit it, he had it pretty good despite being locked away from the
world.
Still, when the day finally came that Oscar was declared rabies free and
sprung from the joint, I was waiting at the gate with a brand new pet carrier
and a bag full of treats. We went home and over the next several weeks I spoiled
him rotten, trying to make up for the trauma he surely endured.
To sum up this tale, here are the lessons I learned.
1) Maui is awesome.
2) Crime doesn’t pay.
3) No matter how airtight a plan may seem, nothing is ever foolproof.
4) There is ALWAYS a chaos factor and to me its name is forever Oscar.
***
Monica McCabe writes
romantic adventures set in far-flung locales and has a secret wish to be a
travel writer and get paid to be on perpetual vacation. Until then you can catch
up with her on her website at
www.monicamccabe.net
and read about her Alaskan adventures.
