Old Man winter has not only pissed us off with his arrival during what we traditionally call our summer months, but he's also brought the plague with him. Instead of the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918, we're calling this the Australian flu pandemic of 2012.
It all began nearly three months ago when the weather turned on a gloomy day in April. The slight humidity vanished from the air leaving a chill in its wake. The need to grab a sweater became more frequent. Now this San Francisco girl is well versed in having a sweater in my purse, car, crook of my arm every season of the year, but even I threw the knit to the wind and embraced the ability to have sleeveless couture 24/7. Next the wind picked up, and the birds grew quieter and more sparse. Where did they go?! They can't fly south for the winter, they would freeze mid-flight! North for the winter?! That's a new one. And just as everyone in the US was defrosting from their winter slumber, and little noses were drying up, we were crossing over into the dark time. Now let me preface my dramatic tale with, yes, I know it's not THAT cold here, just as it doesn't get THAT cold in Northern California either, but come on! When you hear about Australia do you ever think of anything but sun, sand and surf?! That's what a thought.
So let me be the first to inform you that it does get cold here. In the early mornings it can be in the low 40's and it often doesn't rise above the low 50's during the day. Granted there is no fog, or gray gloom. It's either sunny and cold, or rainy and cold. We've had some impressive storms though - so impressive that my beachside boot camp was cancelled, check it out!
Back to Old Man winter who's grumpy ass not only brings temperate weather, but also illness. I was warned by some American friends that the different, "foreign," germs down here might wreak havoc on our dainty American systems. I took this with a grain of salt, or rather the eternal optimist in me felt positive about facing the "foreign" Aussie bugs. They can't be that foreign this IS an English speaking country! I was naive.
Without going into the gory details about our illnesses let's just say the Neti Pot has become a permanent fixture on our bathroom vanity and in Reid's bath time tea parties. We've depleted our supply of children's ibuprofen, Theraflu, and more importantly, the night-time sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so-you-can-rest medicine is GONE and they don't have it here! Everyone has their favored, go-to medicines and I can't find mine! Thank goodness I smuggled a large bottle of prescription Codeine into the country which is still alive and well.
After 3 weeks of struggling with a sinus infection that I took to the mats and won, I thought I was in the clear, but no, Old Man f'ing Winter had something else in store... It started with a simple, run-of-the-mill sore throat. I ignored it, channeling Mark's approach, then paid it some attention by nursing it with some homeopathics. After 4 days of war negotiations I threw up my white flag because it was taking me down and fast. At one point I looked forlornly at Mark and in all seriousness said, "Mark, I think something else is wrong with me." I didn't have any suggestions other than the flu of what could be ailing me, but I knew this is what some form of dying must feel like. When all was said and done, I was in bed for 3 days with a 101/102 fever and on antibiotics for an ear and sinus infection. Four days after I forced myself into a vertical position I started feeling like myself again, but only after I was involuntarily shape-shifted into Florence Nightingale because Mark capitulated. Papa Bear was taken down, it wasn't pretty. Bodi on the other hand was delighted, he had someone to laze with for a week straight. The boys were delighted too, they watched a lot of Wild Kratts and Word World. Other than sleeping and more sleeping we read and watched movies. I finished the second season of Downton Abbey (LOVE), read the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy (awesome trash), watched 4 movies with Crocodile Dundee toping that list ("That's not a knife, this is a knife."), and that's about it. In general, it was a lost week. Thankfully the boys haven't succumbed (knock on wood) to the Australian pandemic of 2012. We're still crossing our fingers. They have however had runny noses for 12 weeks with slight fevers thrown in here and there. On the bright side, no permanent damage has been done and no lasting scars have been left. My American friends haven't been so lucky; one is less her tonsils since arriving Down Under and the other endured sinus surgery. Guess it's more exotic and foreign here than I give credit. I should have listened to their warnings and not left the house.
DISCLAIMER: I do realize that dogs live in the moment and aren't people. I also realize that being a quasi-crazy dog person makes me a bit off my rocker - and I'm ok with that. But my life has been, and continues to be, enriched by their existence. For those in-between dog lovers, and even for the non-dog lovers (like my BFF) you smile at my plight because you love me (hopefully most of you) and therefore, you can smile at the journey we've taken to get our Bodi home.
Now, back to the journey...
On my first visit
Bodi arrived on Thursday, May 3rd. I phoned the quarantine facility later that afternoon hoping to speak to his "keeper" and see how he was faring. I spoke to the dispatch woman who assured me Bodi had arrived, but was going through processing etc and I needed to call back the next day at 8am to get a status report. Ok! He arrived! Bodi was in Australia! That's a long way for anyone to go, let alone a dog.
Eight am on the nose I phoned the next day and was given the direct line to Scott his keeper. I envisioned a grumpy, not friendly, older man who hated his job and hated women like me - not to mention the American element - who just flew their dog 1/2 way across the globe when people are starving and homeless around the world. Scott couldn't have been friendlier! He answered his phone right away and raved about how sweet and well-behaved Bodi was. He told me all of Bodi's bedding that he flew with was unsoiled and could be returned to us. WOW, Bodi made it almost 24 hours without peeing! He must have been "busting" (one of my favorite Aussie words to mean you gotta pee bad - Parker says it all the time). I of course cried tears of joy at the positive report. I told Scott I would be there during visiting hours (Tuesday and Thursday from 1:30-3:30 - yes, that's IT) the following Tuesday. Thankfully I hired a dog walker who would walk him that day, Friday. Sigh, my four-legged boy made it Down Under.
Now, I don't know what you picture when you imagine "quarantine," but I know what I pictured, and the reality is not far off my mental image. I really wanted to think my minds-eye had it all wrong and that in fact, quarantine was like doggie-camp, touting doggie swimming pools, heated floors, toys in every corner, and play-dates with the Lab next door who just arrived from Malaysia. Call me an eternal optimist.
When Tuesday - visiting day - rolled around I drove the 1 hour and 15 minutes to the quarantine facility directly west of Sydney. When I arrived I found an unmarked gated area with barbed wire springing from the top of the fence to give that added sense of, "Stay the fuck out!" I turned off the road and pulled up to the center kiosk with a phone. The Nav System told me I was in the right place, but no sign welcomed me to, "doggie prison." I picked up the phone and it rang. The person on the other end said, "Doggie Prison." Just kidding, she said, "Animal Quarantine." I stammered, "Uh, I'm here to see my dog." She said, "I'll let you in." The gate sluggishly rolled open and I proceeded down the unmarked road. I eventually came upon a building that said, "Plant Quarantine." This puzzled me. Who imports plants?! I still haven't figured this out. Across the parking lot I spotted the animal quarantine building. I shakily parked and proceeded toward the building. I was already on the verge of tears. As I entered the building I knew I would have to talk to someone so I put on my most stoic face. I eased toward the counter where 2 women sat. In expected Aussie service, the women barely regarded me and pointed to a sign-in sheet. I filled in the requested information and then said, "Excuse me, where do I go from here?" Through rolled eyes she said, "Oh, is this your first time? Well first you need to sign this." She shoved in front of me a 2 page sheet of do's and don't's, essentially saying I would be arrested and prosecuted if I didn't follow their rules. This is the Australian government after-all. Next she showed me a paper map of the facility and told me to walk out this door and follow the path out this gate, and then that gate - make sure you secure the gates behind you - then walk down this way, then turn left... Oh, and put on this sticker that screamed "VISITOR." I took a deep breath and proceeded out the glass door.
One of the concrete paths
I unlatched the first gate, eased it open, stepped through, and latched it behind me. I could almost hear the sound of keys turning and the crashing sound of jailhouse bars slamming shut - like in Law and Order, when the scene changes to a prison and you hear the alarm sound signaling the opening and closing of jail bars - that's what filled my mind. I took a deep breath looking at the structures that lay ahead, knowing that Bodi was somewhere in the midst of them; we were about to be reunited. I proceeded down the concrete path, lined by fence and yes, barbed wire sprouting from its top, while I wiped my tears - how could I have done this to him?! I came upon another gate and maneuvered the squeaky latch and swung it open, and then of course, latched it behind me - didn't want to be yelled at. I continued down another concrete path between two buildings that were clearly the cattery. The exterior walls of the cattery were grated and therefore I could see the cats within. Now, I'm not a cat lover, but my heart went out to these felines. They stood there, gazing outside with a blank expression, not meowing, just staring. I advanced along my route, took a left, then a right, and I was in the dog area. Again I was surrounded on both sides by buildings with grated exterior walls - the dog kennels. The dogs immediately started to bark and turn circles at the sight of me. Because it was visitor day there were several people who had set up shop in the kennels with portable chairs, or just copping a squat on the kennel floor talking and loving their beloved four-legged friend. I was struck with a sense of wonder at the sight of these dogs; they all had an interesting travel story I'm sure. Not to mention, these dogs were loved! Someone, somewhere, had transported their dog from the far reaches of the earth, with great expense, so that they could live their lives with their BFF, or best mate. I looked at each dog, barking and wagging at me, and wondered where they had journeyed from? What language did their person speak to them? Where were they born? How long was their sentence?
I arrived at cell block #5, Bodi's cell block. The door was locked, but almost immediately someone saw me and said, "Hey, how you going? Who you here to visit?" This must be Scott, and it was. I took a gulp, again, choking back my tears that started 30 minutes prior, and said, "I'm here to see Bodega (his official transport name), I'm Steph (cause not ONE Aussie can actually call me Stephanie - they shorten everything)." Scott replied, "Oh yeah, Bodega's doing well, although the last few days he hasn't eaten so much and he seems a little anxious." I thought, NO SHIT, it's cause he's in PRISON! But Scott was so nice I replied, "Oh really, maybe he just needs a few days to adjust?" He unlocked the door to cell block #5 and led me into what looked like a very large veterinarian's exam room. I brought a new bed, blanket, several toys, and treats with me that he approved before leading me to another locked door which looked upon a long hallway with kennels off each side - yep, it was a cell block. Bodi was at the very end of the cell block - of course - as if I needed to drag out the drama spewing from my emotional depth by trudging down the long corridor. The dogs jumped on their doors barking and wagging as we passed. They each had a sign posted on their door listing their names: Mambo, Stella, Kip, Capone, Hawk, Duster. Most dogs were solo, but some had a mate - lucky little guys, making the trek together. Scott chatted as we walked; I have no idea what he was saying, small-talk I'm sure, I was busy fighting the impulse to burst into sobs, again. We arrived at cell #35 and there he was, on hind legs looking out his grated kennel door, awaiting something, someone. Scott unlocked the door. I plowed my way in - as Scott locked the door behind me - threw myself on the floor and let Bodi mall me as I wept (non-dog people insert eye-rolls here). He went ballistic! On my approach I wasn't sure whether he would remember me - it had been 4 months (and we all know dogs aren't the sharpest mammals on the planet) - but based on his reaction, he knew me. It took him a good 10 minutes to stop squealing, jumping, and honestly, took me that long to stop weeping. I kept saying, "Holy shit, Bodi, you're in Australia!" It really shook me at that moment that he travelled from the US to Australia! Again, I would never know what he went through.
After the initial freak-out welcome we played toss with his Kong - his FAVE toy. Then I brought his new bed in the far corner of the outside area of his kennel. I sat in his bed, draped my legs over the sides and he nestled between my legs and rested his head on my thigh. He was relaxed, happy, and soaked up my cuddles and loves. He kept gazing up at me, as if to verify that I was really there. He had sadness in his eyes, which could have been jetlag, but it made me sad. How would we both endure this for 25 more days?! I held him for 2 hours - max visiting time - until Scott came to get me. I armed myself with treats to give him as I walked out, but his ears were perked as if saying, "What? You're leaving me?" Again, cue tears. I assured him I would be back in 2 days - as if he understands - and walked out with Scott as he locked the door, securing Bodi in his jail cell. As Scott and I trudged the long cell block I asked if I could call him the next day to see how Bodi was doing. He said, "Oh yeah, that's fine. Hopefully he remains at ease and isn't anxious by your visit." With a squirmed face I said, "Anxious by my visit?" He gently replied, "Well sometimes you have no idea how they respond to being left by their owners after such a journey." Again, cue guilt, tears, insanity!
Parker and Bodi
I made my way out of doggie prison and drove home depressed and uncomfortable. I felt this way for 2 days until I could go back to see him on Thurs. I decided spontaneously to bring Parker and Reid with me. I surprised Parker by picking him up from school early and saying, "We're going to visit Bodi." He was delighted. For selfish reasons I needed my boys to lighten the dark cloud of quarantine. Kids have the amazing ability to forecast happiness over any situation. Their pure hearts and minds can lighten the darkest situation. They didn't balk at the quarantine facility, just argued about who would give him the first treat. Upon entrance into his cell the boys were thrilled to see their four-legged brother - it wasn't sad for them at all! I needed their fresh, non-worldly, innocent view on the situation. All they saw was that Bodi was in Australia and that he would come home to us; just what the doctor ordered for me.
My subsequent visits became easier and easier. Bodi and I played more, cuddled and sobbed less. Like anyone in lockup Bodi gained some lbs, which is actually a good thing because it meant he was at ease and eating. On my visits, as we snuggled, I absorbed the sounds and scenes around me. The other dogs barking was deafening at times. There seemed to be a ring leader about 5 kennels down who really got em going. He would start and they would all chime in creating a harmony between their different doggie accents. There was another dog who liked to party with his food dish. I couldn't see him, but he must've been bating and tossing his dish around like a toy because the sound of the tin on the concrete floor was shrill. Most of the time, Bodi ignored what was going on around him and immersed himself in my company. My four-legged boy, in lock-up, but still having a positive attitude.
After all is said and done - because as I write this I have my boy back - it was a painful and emotional process, but I respect the purpose. Australia is a unique continent, country, and island, and I realize its exceptionality. The quarantine staff, or "keepers" were fabulous and I wish I could hand them a bottle of wine to thank them - cause that's usually how we thank people, with booze. My family is now complete - and that's all I have to say about that.
