On a Magic Carpet Ride

The flight to Ben Gurion Airport was pleasant from start to finish. Guinness was the star of the show. While many travelers looked somewhat askance at our little Stud Muffin, their concern was somewhat justified. During the 45 minutes that the evil clerk Anna made me repack all my belongings, I strategically put Guinness' kennel just far enough away from me that he began to yap in protest at his perceived abandonment. Yap . . .Yap . . . Yap . . . Yap . . . Our fellow passengers, who were also checking in, fell into two categories: "Oh look, the little puppy! He's so CUTE! He's making aliyah with us!" was one camp.

The other camp? "If that little runt yaps like that for 12 hours, I'm going to take one of the plastic knives and stab him to death!" But Guinness was real trooper. He went to the bathroom in the bathroom (Dozens of paper towels on the floor), and he only began to yap when the aroma of chicken in duck sauce filled the air. He may be old, arthritic, half deaf, blind and with a heart murmur, but his sense of smell is still working just fine!

We arrived in Israel, Aima was retrieved before she got wind of her five pound passenger, and our driver was young, frum, energetic and soo kind. I passed out from exhaustion and woke up to find he had pulled over. I was then horrified to see him using latex gloves to pick up Aima's "welcoming" present. No, no he said to my apologies, it is natural, she's been in a plane for hours, ayn bayah. What a mensch!

He dropped me off at 11:45 am and by noon the dachshunds and I had passed out!

The Battle of Newark or how I fought ElAl to a draw

The morning came promptly 5:30 - or the night before mercifully came to an end. Mr. Gamliel came to help me load his van with everything but the two kitchen sinks I had promised to leave behind. Although . . .

Mr. Gamilel was a outgoing, friendly older man who loves animals of every shape and size. He adored Guinness, who had slept through the night undisturbed by my neighbors' noises. He graciously sniffed Mr. Gamliel's hand. "I love the sound of the animals," he told me. We drove to his house, where Mrs. Gamliel took over the helm and her husband bid us farewell. But no sooner had we begun our travel on the interstate when Guinness began to yap. Perhaps he sensed the energy in the van; Mrs. Gamliel is a lovely person, but she isn't the animal lover her husband is. And he made his discomfort known in short staccato yaps. yap. . . - . . . yap . . . - . . . yap. I had come equipped with 1/4 inch-sized bits of Pupperoni, an entire 16 ounce bottle of them. Guinness obediently accepted each piece proffered to him, only to yap again - and again. At this rate I was going to be out of Pupperoni before we got to Delaware.

Guinness finally fell asleep and we drove on. Mrs. Gamliel began moving her lips, saying the wayfarer's prayer. Good, I thought, my prayer book is somewhere in the back seat, I hope her prayer covers passengers. But as we continued on she continued to pray. O.K., she's probably reciting morning prayers, after all we took off at 6 a.m. But it was when she took her right hand and covered her eyes WHILE SHE WAS DRIVING DOWN INTERSTATE 95 that I thought, that's it, we're going to drive off the road and die! She finished the recitation of the Shema and I calmed down, but a few miles went by and suddenly she was reciting the Amidah or standing prayer. Fortunately this wasn't an Amtrak engine, just a Honda Odyssey, so she remained seated. We got to Newark, the van pulled over and I began to offload. Mrs. Gamliel got into an argument with an ElAl security agent who was telling her to move the van. They argued, I unloaded. I went to the sliding door, asked him to hold Guinness in the kennel and said in my very nicest voice, "Shalom! I am making Aliyah today!" Suddenly Mr. James Bond turned into Mr. Mushie. "Ah, Mazál Tov! Welcome home! Ah, the cute doggie! Oh, and you have another doggie also to make aliyah? O.K., no problem, let me help you." Evidently doggies and aliyah go together.

All is good until I get to the ticket reservation counter. The clerk, Anna, looks at the menagerie in front of her and starts counting: "That's nine extra pieces of luggage." WHAT??? She is counting the four separate pieces of my disability scooter. Fine, I say, and in less than one minute my scooter is now reassembled in one piece. Fine, says she, it now only counts as one. Well, I counter, the battery has to be checked separately because flight regulations require it to be in a special-holding cargo hold. Then, says Anna, it counts as two. Wait, I exclaim! This is the only airline that counts a disability scooter as checked baggage. That, Anna explains, is if you check it here. If you want it to go as a disability scooter, you have to ride it to the airplane gate and check it there. Hold on, interject the two baggage handlers, we want to check it NOW! She can go the the gate in our wheelchair. No, proclaims Anna the scooter must go to the gate! But we must check the battery, they cry. Then she will have to be pushed on the scooter to the gate! This is MADNESS, the chorus sings. Oscar, the junior baggage handler, slips the battery to the conveyor belt, then appeals, sotto voce. to the supervisor. I proclaim the sacred word of ElAl, she sings in a lovely soprano. Let the scooter be checked now and let the fair maiden Keren travel forth a lá wheelchair! HURRAH!! The whole chorus belts out!

Only then does the evil clerk Anna try to exact her revenge. Well, she says, one excess bag is overweight! 45 minutes later all my luggage is repacked, Aima is traveling with a five pound bag of Pesahdik dog food in her kennel and Anna waves all the luggage through. Only then does she reveal her dastardly intent: the second dachshund is another excess baggage, so I will charge you $655 to board. Fine, I smile with a wink and nod to the peanut gallery, just put it on my . . . AMERICAN EXPRESS!!

Off I go to the boarding gate, secure in the knowledge that I will dispute her $300 rip-off with the most consumer friendly credit card company in the world.

Next: On a Magic Carpet Ride!

An Evacuation Carroll

Twas the Night before leaving and all through the house,

Such music was booming, t'would frighten a mouse.

The neighbors were partying, they had not a care.

And R and B music pulsed through the air.

Sleep would not happen no matter I tried,

On my back, on my front, and of course on each side.

The one-o'clock hour came and it went,

And finally all of my patience was spent.

911 to the rescue, help was soon on the way.

When the policemen arrived I heard one of them say,

"Please open the door, ma'am." But she would not comply.

"Ma'am, open the door." But she gave no reply.

"Ma'am, please open the door," he would ask loud and clear,

But his firm command would fall on deaf ear.

At long last the music cut off in mid beat,

And the squad car drove off down our now-quiet street.

But were they all finished? Oh it was not to be,

A melee was started, a real jamboree.

He shouted, she countered, he shouted some more,

And then a gun sounded, like the slam of a door.

Now I joined NRA back in '71,

And it's been many years since I fired a gun.

But a 22 caliber makes a nice "clop"

And a few seconds later was another clear pop!

I could hear his voice talking, but from her not a peep.

Forget any rest-there's no way I could sleep.

911 on speed dial, I called in the fuzz.

For a murder or mayhem was the new next-door buzz.

Thank the Lord she was healthy, but she wanted to go,

So the cops she escorted, there was nary a blow.

They ran all the names of each person inside

Just in case anyone had a warrant to hide.

At long last she was free, and away did she drive,

While I in my house thanked the Lord she's alive.

It's 4 a.m now; I'm too hyped to recline,

But grateful to vacate in the nick of time.

How Much is That doggie gonna cost me?

Spending money on vet bills can fall into the thousands. I know - getting Aima and Guinness to Israel ended up costing me a small fortune.

After deciding to "retire" Merlin and Beau to North Carolina, everyone went to the vet at the Pet Wellness Clinic in Glen Burnie. The clinic is worth the ride - owners pay just for vaccinations; $11 for a standard vaccine covering 7 different diseases, $18 for rabies shots. It's the way pet vaccinations should be - easy on the wallet.

The organization helping me with aliyah - Nefesh B'Nefesh - has a long web entry about the steps needed to import your pet. Here's what they don't tell you: shop around for the vet with the best deal. Since my rabbit vet is a USDA qualified vet, I decided just to go to him for the series of vet visits. What the VET didn't tell me was that exams could be done in a specific order to keep costs down.

Visit #1 - Aima and Guinness are subjected to a fecal sampling (one can only imagine how that sample was obtained), a health exam and an x-ray for Aima, who has been coughing for the last year. Fecal exam: negative. X-ray: negative. Other than the mystery cough, Aima is fine. Guinness, at age 17 is found to have cataracts in both eyes, is almost totally deaf, is arthritic, has rotted teeth (you try sticking your finger in there to brush those teeth) and has a heart murmur. Both dogs get rabies vaccines and are told to report at least 30 days hence for blood draw to determine rabies titer. Total vet bill: $333.00

Visit #2 - The intrepid puppers report for blood draw. Additionally, Aima needs an updated vaccine for tetnus, parvo, bordatella, plague, West Nile Sleeping Sickness, enlarged prostate and distemper. The blood sample is to be sent to Kansas State University in Manhatten, Kansas, referred to by University of Kansas alumnae as "Silo Tech" due to their agriculture emphasis. Ah, but Silo Tech has its revenge. The processing fee is $276 per sample, the Fedex bill is $45 per sample, but hey, a quick-thinking technician asks the doctor if we can send the two samples together and save on the Fedex cost. The vet, in his beneficence, agrees. Total vet bill: $810.00 After I am revived using the doggie crash cart and electric paddles, I look down at the end of the leash at Guinness, the arthritic, deaf, blind, toothless geezer with the bum ticker. "If you die two days after arriving in Israel," I murmur under my breath, "It will not be pleasant."(Right now, it is Day Six - he's still on probation.)

Visit #3 - This visit took me completely by surprise. I had thought that the vet would simply sign his part of the form and I would fax all these forms to The Israeli Department of Agriculture. But nooooo - that would be too cost effective. Both dogs have to be seen a THIRD time. And I have to pay a third time. Now is when I speak up. I tell the vet that the $100 for initial exams were unnecessary. if he knew he would have to examine them within ten days of flight, why did he charge for a full exam three months prior? Dr. soothes my raging heart with bon mots and gives me a special discount: total third vet bill: only $139.00 Golly gee, what a deal!

The vet: $1,340.00 Me: broke. The Puppers: priceless.

Next: The Battle of Newark or how I battled ElAl to a draw.

Gone With the Dogs and Bye-Bye Miss American Hare!

Divesting oneself of stuff is not for the faint of heart. There are several methods: room by room, item by item, location by location (wasn't my dining room table in this room once?). But divesting oneself of living things - like pets, plants and children - can be a real test of strength.

I had four dachshunds. Actually, I had two AKC registered ones: Kafon's Ima Redneck, and Guinness Black and Tan. And the fact that they are bonafide dachshunds really had nothing, nothing to do with my decision to take them with me to Israel. Really.

Merlin the Magician and Dr. Beau Leaky were discovered roaming down in Alabama. They both tested heartworm positive, which meant the shelter scheduled them for euthanasia. But the shelter workers had the phone number of Jim and Leslie Ingram, founders of Almost Home Dachshund Rescue and now the dedicated people of Doxie Acres. They took in the boys, treated them for heartworm and had them neutered. It was that they had remained intact was a problem. They had fully developed the marking instinct. And marking was so popular at my house, they were called The Marks Brothers. It became a competitive sport. "That's my bookcase." "No, that's my bookcase." " No, that's my bookcase." That's my bookcase, boys!" I yelled to no avail.

So the dachshunds lived a contented if boring life outside. They had plenty of room, two dog houses on my deck, and according to Baltimore City law, they were allowed to spend the night in the bathroom when the nighttime low reached 15º.

As the time for leaving approached, I found nobody willing to ake on two unrepentant markers. And I am a member of wienerwriings.com, a message board of hard-core wiener-loving hoomans. Then one day I remembered a sentence in my adoption contract. "If, for any reason, you have to surrender the dog, you are required to return it to us." Well, boy howdy, I surrender! I e-mailed Leslie, she said bring 'em on down, and now Beau and Merlin are "retired" in a loving home of two people and 20 dachshunds in North Carolina.

Rabbit-wise, I was down to my last bun. Coquita Bun-Anna was an adorable chocolate Havanese. (Photos submitted upon request.) A couple from Annapolis and I found each other and Coco found herself a new home, where she is beloved member of their family.

That left me with two manageable pets - and small enough that I could carry both of them at the same time. The Israeli Departrment of Agriculture is very cautious to ensure that no one smuggles any rabid dachshunds into the country. After all there were three (!) of them on our plane. Never mind that every day people from Sudan and Ethiopia slip across the border after crossing the Sinai. (After all, Moses and the 12 Tribes did the same thing more than 3500 years ago - are you listening, United Nations?) Next up - How much is that doggie gonna cost me?

Finally, Finally Home

Someone recently asked me how long it took me to plan to make aliyah, to emigrate to Israel. "About 40 years," I replied. It was 40 years ago this coming August that I converted from my Lutheran upbringing to Judaism. At the time that seemed so simple. Boy, was I naïve!

In 2007 my mother passed away very unexpectedly. We had a complicated relationship, but in the last years we had buried the hatchet - and not in each other's backs. So while I had promised her that I wouldn't change my first name, it was after her death, going through her meticulous files, that I came across her original birth certificate. Pearl Steuerle.

Margo Steuerle never existed. Well, I guess she did, until she became Margo Stroh (another marriage I didn't hear about until I was 32 years old), who then became Margo Butcher (my father Frank was her boss at work), until she became Margo Hening (Frank died when I was seven months old), marrying the man who wooed her every day in the elevator at the Empire State Building. But I digress. Glenn and I decided to spend a portion of her inheritance on a collective dream - to go on a six-week tour of Europe, the last two weeks of it in Israel. I ended up in Israel for 12 days by myself. I always told my children that when I flew to Israel I wouldn't need a return ticket. I did come back home - but only to tell them that I was making aliyah.

Saving enough money to move myself took two and a half years. Trying to divest myself of some of my many thousands of books was another kettle of fish. But I look with pride at two accomplishments: The Book Thing, a "take what you want, donate what you want" place in Baltimore was the recipient of my copy of the Encyclopedia International. All 20 volumes. O.K., so the copyright date was 1970. It was published when I was a high school junior. And I donated three different dictionaries. Not that I don't need one. It's just that Mom left me an Oxford Unabridged Dictionary, complete with a neat chrome and maroon book stand. Makes a great shtender!

Anyway, the movers came and packed every square inch of a 20 cubic foot long shipping container, leaving some six boxes behind to be shipped later, thanks to Jacob Laderman, who is collecting people's stuff to combine into one shipment. You go to it, Jacob. He found me Saturday night when my friend Debby was talking to my other friend Shoshana and Jacob overheard that I was in the room.

And so the stuff was on its way to Israel and I had only to get to the airport with my two dachshunds in tow. What happened to my other pets is the subject of tomorrow's blog: Gone With The Dogs and Bye-Bye Miss American Hare.

(Be sure to ask in comments about any word you don't understand, like aliyah or shtender or Lutheran.)