Written by See Yee Ai.
When my husband and I planned our move to the United States, we always assumed that our cats, Maxi and Manna, were coming with us. "They're family, you see," we told our friends, smug in our belief that taking them would be a cinch. After all, nothing in our research on the Internet warned us that it would not be possible, or even the hassle and cots involved.
When we finally booked our tickets, we informed out travel agent that we were taking two cats with us and she gave us the provisional okay. However, after our flights confirmed, she told us the airline's policy on cats in cargo: no cats younger than 18 weeks or older than six months were allowed. It was the first blow: Maxi is seven-and-half years old and Manna is a ripe two-and-a-half.
I contacted my vet, hoping that he would know someone who could arrange for pet transport. He passed me to his associate, who handled all the transportation arrangements. My initial interview with the pet transporter was promising. She assured me that shipping cats to the United States was easy - easier than shipping them to Australia or South Africa, for example. While she prepared the quote, I decided to hedge my bets and contacted an international transport company.
The time, the view was a lot less optimistic. I was told that since Kansas City, where we were relocating to, was considered a tertiary destination, it was going to be tricky, if not impossible, to ship them all the way. The problem was that no one airline flew all the way from Kuala Lumpur, and airlines were reluctant to carry animals they had not "seen". Our cats could only be shipped to Chicago and we would have to arrange alternative transport to Kansas. In addition, it would cost us about RM5,000 to ship them to Chicago, which was more than what we had budgeted for.
This gave us several sleepless nights until I contacted my pet transporter, who, again, reassured me that it would not be a problem. My husband left on June 16, thinking that the cats and I would join him on July 1. In the mean time, I sent them for their rabies vaccinations and the required health checks, in preparation for their export permit.
Six days before I was due to leave, my pet transporter informed me that she could only get an airline to fly my cats to Chicago. I remember exactly how I felt when I took the call; I felt my body chill to the bone and had this sense of detachment - as if I was watching someone else take that call. I promptly phoned my husband, asking him about alternatives to ship the cats from Chicago to Kansas City.
To cut a long story short, the options were not very attractive - it was too risky and expensive. I had to make the decision that I'd hope I never had to. I had to find my cats a new home.
That night, I cried myself to sleep. I didn't realise how much my cats meant to me until then. They had been my constant companions for over four years, and despite denying it vehemently, I thought of them as my surrogate children. Maxi, as if sensing what was about to happen, slept with me that night, curled up in my arms. She hadn't done that in a long, long time.
The next day, I messaged as many friends as I could, telling them of my plight. About a year ago, I had sent out a plea in Sunday Star about five kittens I had fostered. The response had been overwhelming, and many potential adopters went away empty-handed. They were now my last best hope.
One of the people I called was Mohamad Khairul. I must have surprised him as I got his contact from his sister, who emailed me about his interest in kittens. Khairul agreed to come over to look at them the next day. I kept my fingers thightly crossed and prayed hard that he was the right person for my cats.
Khairul came the next day. He was a very sweet young man and fell in love with both Maxi and Manna. The cats seemed to warm to him immediately. I was upfront with him about Maxi's health problems. She had not been well cared for before I rescued her from a shelter and had lost all her lower teeth. She could only eat wet food, which was more expensive than dry food. In addition, her teeth had to be scaled annually.
Hoping to give at least one cat a good home, I told him that he didn't have to take both cats if he didn't want to. He said, "No I want both of them!" I could have given him a kiss and a big hug then.
We agreed that Khairul would come for them the next day, as he needed to prepare his house for them. That last day, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was glad that Maxi and Manna were going to a good home and didn't have to be surrendered to a shelter where, I believe, because of her age and teeth, Maxi would definitely be put to sleep. on the other hand, it tore me apart to know that I may never see them again. I felt that I had betrayed them and had not lived up to my promise to care for them all their lives.
Khairul came on the dot, again, the next day. My in-laws, with whom I was living, were there. So were my best friends, Sherm and Jenny. They both knew what my cats meant to me and were there to give me moral support. I kept a brave front until it was time to put them in their carriers. I began to sob uncontrollably.
Before he drove off, Khairul told me, "I will love them." I think that was all I needed to hear.
On my way to the airport, Khairul's mother, Maria, called to give me an update on the cats. She thanked me and my husband for them and invited us to visit when we came back to Malaysia. Khairul was introducing the cats to their new home by the book - they were confined to his room with food and water in order for them to settle in. But on the first night, both of them crawled into bed with him. It was a good sign.
A few days after my arrival in Kansas City, my mother-in-law called. They had visited their "grand-daughters" at Maria and Khairul's and were full of good news. Maxi, always the timid one, was still in hiding. But Manna, the bold hussy, behaved like she owned the place. the cycle was complete. I could now move on.
When we finally booked our tickets, we informed out travel agent that we were taking two cats with us and she gave us the provisional okay. However, after our flights confirmed, she told us the airline's policy on cats in cargo: no cats younger than 18 weeks or older than six months were allowed. It was the first blow: Maxi is seven-and-half years old and Manna is a ripe two-and-a-half.
I contacted my vet, hoping that he would know someone who could arrange for pet transport. He passed me to his associate, who handled all the transportation arrangements. My initial interview with the pet transporter was promising. She assured me that shipping cats to the United States was easy - easier than shipping them to Australia or South Africa, for example. While she prepared the quote, I decided to hedge my bets and contacted an international transport company.
The time, the view was a lot less optimistic. I was told that since Kansas City, where we were relocating to, was considered a tertiary destination, it was going to be tricky, if not impossible, to ship them all the way. The problem was that no one airline flew all the way from Kuala Lumpur, and airlines were reluctant to carry animals they had not "seen". Our cats could only be shipped to Chicago and we would have to arrange alternative transport to Kansas. In addition, it would cost us about RM5,000 to ship them to Chicago, which was more than what we had budgeted for.
This gave us several sleepless nights until I contacted my pet transporter, who, again, reassured me that it would not be a problem. My husband left on June 16, thinking that the cats and I would join him on July 1. In the mean time, I sent them for their rabies vaccinations and the required health checks, in preparation for their export permit.
Six days before I was due to leave, my pet transporter informed me that she could only get an airline to fly my cats to Chicago. I remember exactly how I felt when I took the call; I felt my body chill to the bone and had this sense of detachment - as if I was watching someone else take that call. I promptly phoned my husband, asking him about alternatives to ship the cats from Chicago to Kansas City.
To cut a long story short, the options were not very attractive - it was too risky and expensive. I had to make the decision that I'd hope I never had to. I had to find my cats a new home.
That night, I cried myself to sleep. I didn't realise how much my cats meant to me until then. They had been my constant companions for over four years, and despite denying it vehemently, I thought of them as my surrogate children. Maxi, as if sensing what was about to happen, slept with me that night, curled up in my arms. She hadn't done that in a long, long time.
The next day, I messaged as many friends as I could, telling them of my plight. About a year ago, I had sent out a plea in Sunday Star about five kittens I had fostered. The response had been overwhelming, and many potential adopters went away empty-handed. They were now my last best hope.
One of the people I called was Mohamad Khairul. I must have surprised him as I got his contact from his sister, who emailed me about his interest in kittens. Khairul agreed to come over to look at them the next day. I kept my fingers thightly crossed and prayed hard that he was the right person for my cats.
Khairul came the next day. He was a very sweet young man and fell in love with both Maxi and Manna. The cats seemed to warm to him immediately. I was upfront with him about Maxi's health problems. She had not been well cared for before I rescued her from a shelter and had lost all her lower teeth. She could only eat wet food, which was more expensive than dry food. In addition, her teeth had to be scaled annually.
Hoping to give at least one cat a good home, I told him that he didn't have to take both cats if he didn't want to. He said, "No I want both of them!" I could have given him a kiss and a big hug then.
We agreed that Khairul would come for them the next day, as he needed to prepare his house for them. That last day, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was glad that Maxi and Manna were going to a good home and didn't have to be surrendered to a shelter where, I believe, because of her age and teeth, Maxi would definitely be put to sleep. on the other hand, it tore me apart to know that I may never see them again. I felt that I had betrayed them and had not lived up to my promise to care for them all their lives.
Khairul came on the dot, again, the next day. My in-laws, with whom I was living, were there. So were my best friends, Sherm and Jenny. They both knew what my cats meant to me and were there to give me moral support. I kept a brave front until it was time to put them in their carriers. I began to sob uncontrollably.
Before he drove off, Khairul told me, "I will love them." I think that was all I needed to hear.
On my way to the airport, Khairul's mother, Maria, called to give me an update on the cats. She thanked me and my husband for them and invited us to visit when we came back to Malaysia. Khairul was introducing the cats to their new home by the book - they were confined to his room with food and water in order for them to settle in. But on the first night, both of them crawled into bed with him. It was a good sign.
A few days after my arrival in Kansas City, my mother-in-law called. They had visited their "grand-daughters" at Maria and Khairul's and were full of good news. Maxi, always the timid one, was still in hiding. But Manna, the bold hussy, behaved like she owned the place. the cycle was complete. I could now move on.
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