Fur for France

Departing from their home in La Center, Washington at 5 a.m. PST on October 15th, my parents delivered Jack to SeaTac airport at 9:30 a.m. where he was checked in for his flight, which was to depart at 4:30 p.m. After about 11 hours of air travel, including changing planes in Iceland, Jack finally arrived at CDG in Paris--where the local time was 1 p.m on October 16th. We engaged in hours of waiting and paper work to prove that Jack was both healthy and ours before customs released him to us at about 4 p.m. Then, thanks to the current transportation strike, David, Jack and I spent 2 hours in stop and go traffic driving (what should have been a half hour drive) back to our apartment. Given the extent of his journey, we thought he looked pretty good upon arrival!

We would award Jack a medal for bravery if he had a place to pin it. And as long as we are passing out awards, I hereby nominate my parents for saint-hood. They had to do piles of paperwork, take Jack to a series of Vet appointments, and arrange all sorts of details from the states to make it possible for Jack to come to us.

As soon as we got Jack home, David took him straight into the bathroom for a little bath. I don't want to sacrifice any of Jack's dignity by telling you why he needed a bath, but I can promise you this: If you had been cooped up in a tiny box for almost 24 hours you would probably need a bath, too.

After his bath and a tiny bit of exploring, he quickly settled into his favorite chair for a nap.

He slept through the night, hardly touching any food or water. He was obviously completely wiped out. But he woke up this morning fresh as a daisy and seems right at home in our little French apartment. In fact, this very minute he's helping me blog.

Such a sweet kitty, and just as helpful as ever! Jack, Bienvenue en France.

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