Moving to Maui (AMAL Tales story) I

11/8/2010 [draft of essay published in AMAL Tales Winter/Spring 2011]

Dear Aunt Shel,

I heard you ask my Food Person to write a story for the AMAL Newsletter about our moving to Maui from Texas. Seriously? Don’t you think the story should come from Me?

Part 1.
About this Texas. That’s short for Land of Fire Ants, Crazy Heat and Pit Bulls. I have discovered that Hawai’i, as Maui is also called (humans!) is also the Land of Pit Bulls, but FP tells me there are no Fire Ants, and investigation reveals only little, harmless but not delicious ones. We were able to make this investigation right away and at our leisure.

But I digress. Getting out of Texas is not easy. FP explained to me that Hawai’i has a quarantine law and that we had to begin shots and other preparations 120 days in advance or I would be put in jail, but that’s not logical. Who wouldn’t want to have me, Miss Congeniality? Obviously it is Texas that didn’t want to lose me. So we had lots of pleasant visits with Dr. Davenport at Love Pet. Dr. D has been to Maui and knows the law very well, so she was able to calm down FP, who was very silly about the whole thing, and make sure we were on time at every stage along the way. I like Dr D very much even though she gives me shots all the time.

FP did miss a mailing deadline, since she discovered that it is possible to clear quarantine on Maui without having to go through Honolulu airport. So we were finally booked (see? They didn’t want us to leave!) on a flight out of Austin to Chicago on Nov 6, connecting to Kahului. FP made a real Pest of herself calling United again and again to make sure that my Malamute-size crate would fit on the little plane going out of Austin, and each time the reservations agent assured her that, yes, there would be no problem at all.

Meanwhile, we were packing up the house, finding a renter and getting ready to leave. Well, if you knew my FP, you would laugh hysterically and stop reading right here. This meant packing up 13 years of accumulated stuff that humans laughingly call “necessary.” We Malamutes know much better, of course. FP ended up with over 100 boxes of books alone, another 100 boxes of miscellaneous crap, including crafting stuff – why humans aren’t satisfied with simply contemplating nature’s beauty, like me, I can’t understand. The movers kept delaying their arrival and finally came at 5 p.m.!! on the 5th!! FP was not in a calm, Zen-like state. They were still filling up the truck when we left at 4 a.m. There was a dispute amongst the humans about the cost, which I ignored, and FP says she doesn’t know if her stuff will ever arrive or not. Fine by me. Oh, and another man came to take the car, too. It is also going on the boat.

At this point (Saturday), FP had last slept around Wednesday, showered on Thursday, eaten on Friday, squashed a toe, had terminally damaged fingernails, and was not a sunshiny pleasure to be around. I personally don’t see any reason to lose one’s grace or composure in any situation. At least I didn’t until we reached the airport at 4:30 a.m.

Ms Angie came to pick us up. She is Not A Morning Person, so her taking the time and effort to get up and out that early was really special, and I gave her many extra kisses.

At the airport, a nice skycap allowed us to commandeer his big crate dolly, and we sailed into the United line to check in, smelly but smiling. At which point the girl at the counter said, “Oh, that crate will never fit on this flight. You won’t be flying out today.”

My FP said a bad word, I said WOO, and thus began the saga of Getting Missy to Maui before 4 on Saturday.