Hey, thanks for asking.
It's been interesting. In both good and bad ways.
The process got off to an ignoble start on Tuesday night when I walked into an unlit bedroom and did a face plant on some suitcases that Bob had packed earlier in the day. I thought maybe I'd broken my nose, but all was okay.
Earlier in the day I had brought long-suffering Smudge to the Guangshan animal hospital where she was examined and blood was drawn. Her little red book was taken, and I was told to come back Thursday. And Friday. Because government offices are mainly closed this week and we'd need those days to get her forms finished. But being told to come back was a good sign, said Mary Peng of the International Center for Veterinary Services, and I believed her.
On Thursday, I parked the cat -- along with a blanket, her new spiffy animal bed, her litter box, her food, and her water fountain -- inside the second bathroom. She meowed plaintively until the movers came, and then she got quiet.
Meanwhile I was rushing around to get back to the animal hospital and see if Smudge passed her exam. Bob had warned me that using a glass in the bathroom was dangerous. Until today he was wrong. And then suddenly he was right. I dropped the glass in the sink, and in trying to catch it gave myself a big gash on my little finger. Now I had to find band-aids before they were packed.
The movers arrived. "So, what do you need packed?" they asked as if this was an unusual concept. I left, with half-dry hair and blood dripping from my finger.
I rushed off to the hospital, trying to explain to the cab driver where it was. I mean, why would they know where anything at all is in this city? After all, they only drive people in cars around the city for a living. Anhuaqiao metro stop? Never heard of it. Line 4? Not ringing a bell.
I got to the hospital but not before fielding 12 phone calls from Bob. Didn't you want your hair brushes? What about those coats? Traffic was at a near-standstill in a post-APEC frenzy of renewed driving.
I got to the hospital. A young man smiled and had me fill out a form. 100 RMB, please, he said. I handed it over, and it was done. Smudge had passed.
Now we have to convince United that she does have a spot reserved on the plane. And then, you know, she has to survive that trip. We're not there yet, but we have gotten past a few big hurdles with only minor injuries and only 17 arguments.
It's been interesting. In both good and bad ways.
The process got off to an ignoble start on Tuesday night when I walked into an unlit bedroom and did a face plant on some suitcases that Bob had packed earlier in the day. I thought maybe I'd broken my nose, but all was okay.
Earlier in the day I had brought long-suffering Smudge to the Guangshan animal hospital where she was examined and blood was drawn. Her little red book was taken, and I was told to come back Thursday. And Friday. Because government offices are mainly closed this week and we'd need those days to get her forms finished. But being told to come back was a good sign, said Mary Peng of the International Center for Veterinary Services, and I believed her.
On Thursday, I parked the cat -- along with a blanket, her new spiffy animal bed, her litter box, her food, and her water fountain -- inside the second bathroom. She meowed plaintively until the movers came, and then she got quiet.
Meanwhile I was rushing around to get back to the animal hospital and see if Smudge passed her exam. Bob had warned me that using a glass in the bathroom was dangerous. Until today he was wrong. And then suddenly he was right. I dropped the glass in the sink, and in trying to catch it gave myself a big gash on my little finger. Now I had to find band-aids before they were packed.
The movers arrived. "So, what do you need packed?" they asked as if this was an unusual concept. I left, with half-dry hair and blood dripping from my finger.
I rushed off to the hospital, trying to explain to the cab driver where it was. I mean, why would they know where anything at all is in this city? After all, they only drive people in cars around the city for a living. Anhuaqiao metro stop? Never heard of it. Line 4? Not ringing a bell.
I got to the hospital but not before fielding 12 phone calls from Bob. Didn't you want your hair brushes? What about those coats? Traffic was at a near-standstill in a post-APEC frenzy of renewed driving.
I got to the hospital. A young man smiled and had me fill out a form. 100 RMB, please, he said. I handed it over, and it was done. Smudge had passed.
Now we have to convince United that she does have a spot reserved on the plane. And then, you know, she has to survive that trip. We're not there yet, but we have gotten past a few big hurdles with only minor injuries and only 17 arguments.
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| Hey, there's our truck. Asian Tigers on the job. |
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| The kitchen. Too bad -- no more cooking. |
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| Hiker pals gave me (and Smudge) this little kitty bed. So sweet! More on that soon. |
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| Sign on the bathroom door. Ask Lori how she translated my Chinese the drawing of a cat. |
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