Dear Diary

Musings by Erica
10.11.2009
Dear Diary,
My partner left last week to begin a contracting job of indeterminate duration with the US Army. The decision to contract was one we'd made several months ago, but it wasn't until last weekend that we knew where he was going and how long we had before he was expected to board a plane out of Philadelphia International Airport. When the word arrived on Friday afternoon, the answers were "Kaiserslautern, Germany" and "Monday morning."
Emotional trauma at the short notice and sudden physical absence of my partner aside, the whole affair marks the beginning of a strange period of transition and travel in my day-to-day life. Contracting jobs are interesting creatures: they have a minimum lifespan of one year, and are subject to renewal or cancellation at what often appears to be the whim of mysterious government forces. As such, Nick will be employed in Germany until the end of next September and, unless the mysterious forces change their minds, will continue to be so until the force is no longer with us. As I'm planning to finish my master's degrees in May, the plan is to pack up, send as many resumes as possible to the Kaiserslautern-area Air Force base sexual assault counseling team as possible, and move myself, my cat, and my giant pile of textbooks to Germany.
Here's the thing, diary. There's quite a bit of paperwork to be done between now and then, since not only do I need all kinds of permission slips and special licenses to move to Germany for any amount of time, but I need to learn the local language and customs. Oh, and I will be bringing a cat with me.

She prefers to travel by basket, or not at all.

That's right, a cat. A fuzzy, sweet little thing with sharp claws and a strong, well-verbalized dislike for her carrier, moving, and anything associated with removing her from her current home.
Travel, for me, is a force of habit. I didn't have to think twice when TSA started setting up security lanes that were intended to sort experienced from inexperienced travelers- I already knew I was an expert. It's instinctive for me to pack necessary items- clean underwear, contact lens fluid, toothbrush- in my carry-on bag, because at this point I'm way too familiar with the "lost baggage" phenomenon (ask me about my 30 hours in Atlanta sometime. Go on, I dare you). I can handle layovers, terminal transfers, customs, lugging bags around endlessly, and last-minute changes to departure gates.
But flying with a pet? This one's entirely new to me, and the fact that I'm flying her across the Atlantic Ocean and planning to leave her in a foreign country makes it all the more challenging to learn what I gotta do. So far I've called the embassy, two different airline companies, the vet-in-charge (of what? no idea) in Harrisburg, and the nearest Air Force base, and still no one has been able to give me a solid story. It sounds like there will be paperwork. And blood work. And much ado about ground air temperatures and microchips. And, if the airline companies are right, there will be no sedatives. For either of us.
So, diary, this is going to be one hell of an adventure. Already I can tell that the cat's needs will be the most challenging to meet, and will require the most preparation- nobody wants rabies, and they want to keep it out with extended-release rabies vaccines. Next time I write, I hope to be able to shed some light on what international pet travel will demand, just in case anyone else is ever crazy enough to try this. Eight months from now, I hope to be sitting in Kaiserslautern with Nick, drinking German beer, watching the cat relax in the window of our German apartment, and discussing the day's events in passable German parlance. At the very least, I hope to be in Germany with the cat, not lost and not starving. We'll see which of these goals I'm able to attain.
Let the preparations for international household moving begin!
-Erica