Coons Coming to Canada

I want a Maine Coon cat. That was it, the thought and the want. So now it was a matter of doing it.
When I was very young I saw my first polydactyl cat at the Hemmingway house in the Florida Keys. I
had no idea at the time what they were called but the mitten paws were beautiful. It was something I
remembered through the years.

I saw a Maine Coon mix at a friends and decided this is the cat for me and now the breed had a name.
But where do I find one?  I went on the Internet and did a search for “Maine Coon”. That’s when my education began. I started reading and surfing everything the breeders had to say, good and bad. And that’s when I found it. Almost all the sites had the history of the Maine Coon and talked about the polydactyls in the early history of the breed. What luck. Not only was the breed I wanted available but it was also the cat of my dreams with the mitten paws.

Now the hunt was on with intent to find my poly Maine Coon. I modified my search to polydactyl Maine Coons. I had a picture in my mind of what the original native cat must have looked like. The tabby with the extra toes. I also liked the look of the cats that were with white also. This narrowed down my searching. During the months that I looked I decided that an adult cat would fit well into our household. The dogs and cat already had us living with them so one more couldn’t hurt.

Then it happened. I went to a site and there was exactly what I was looking for. It had it all. The poly feet, tabby colour, white markings and adults. The fact that this combination was with two cats seemed to me a bonus not a deterrent. I contacted the breeder, and enquired about the cats. Immediately I sent her a very lengthy description of our household and waited for a reply. Would we be suited for her cats? Yes we were. Email followed email and phone calls were made. Now all I had to do was wait.

The fact that the girls were in the USA and I was in Canada was not a problem. The girls had to be vetted and a flight arranged. Time seemed to crawl at this point but the excitement went through our household. New litter boxes to buy, food, bowls, toys and a cat tree.

Finally on the designated morning the email was in my inbox, “the girls are on their flight this morning,

all is ok, and call me when you get home”. Pretty simple and straight forward. A two-hour drive to the airport, pick up the cats and come home.  
Not!
Their flight landed at 9:30 am. I was in the cargo area at 9:31. New owners get so excited and really
don’t know how things work. The people there were extremely nice and explained to me that it would 
be at least an hour before the plane was unloaded, come back then. I explained that I was picking up cats and the sooner I could get them home and away from what was surely a terrifying experience, the better.
Ahhh cats you say. Well that is different. You will need to clear Customs at the other side of the airport with reams of paperwork and a vet check etc. Because they were animals it was part of Agriculture and all had to be inspected. Panic was starting to set in. I took the information from him and said I would return in an hour. I wondered why with a Customs office next door I would have to go across the airport. What do I know though?
After looking at planes and cars for fifty-nine minutes I went back into the cargo office to see about my cats. The gentleman there was wonderful. He could see how excited and or panicked I was and was great. He had called Customs after looking at the paperwork attached to the cage and had it cleared to go to the Customs office next door. I could almost hear my cats purring.

Off I ran to the customs office with my fist full of paperwork and my cargo manifest only to be met by the customs officer that hadn’t had a good night sleep. Just by his demeanour I could tell there was going to be issues. He looked at the paperwork and said, “this is not what I accept as a bill of sale” My jaw hit the table. It was a receipt from the breeder but he was going to split hairs. I explained to him that these were adult cats, pets, coming to a new home and the breeders main interest was to see that this happened. I was responsible for the vet bills for the cats and in essence that was the service I was paying for. Technically the cats were free. Well there was no getting through to this guy and he wanted proof of vet bills and anything else I had. “Go phone the breeder and have her fax me a receipt that states specifically it is for the sale of the cats”.
OK, now is the time to panic. I left the Customs office at a dead run back to the van and on the cell phone calling the breeder. I am hopping mad at this point and almost in tears. I explain what is happening and she says she can’t believe it. But she is also a very smart woman and has been doing this for years. She had placed all the documentation for the cats in a sealed envelope inside the cat carrier. A safety precaution so the wouldn’t be torn off the carrier and lost. My ray of hope!

Back to the cargo office. I explain to the gentleman that there is paperwork inside the cat carrier that I need and may I please go into the warehouse and get it. Kindly he says no. This is a bonded warehouse and only employees are allowed in this area. He would gladly get the paperwork. I ask him to be extremely careful opening the door. I didn’t want the great escape at this point. Again he is very nice and off he goes. He only has to go about twenty feet through a door. There is a window in the wall next to the door and the carrier is right there. He steps up to the carrier, bends down, goes to open the door and then immediately jumps back. He has a very startled look on his face and says “good gosh, did you see the size of those cats. Lady I am not putting my hand in there, you better come in here!” At this point I figured it was best not to laugh. This was going to be my first look at my new girls and I couldn’t wait. There they were, poor dears, pushed up to the back of the carrier and looking scared to death not threatening. I carefully opened the door, got my paper work and trotted back to the Customs office. Now I am definitely on a mission. These cats are going home.

The Customs office has now started filling up and there are people milling around waiting for assistance. I get in line, hoping to get a different person this time. No such luck. He picks me out of the crowd and calls me over. And then it begins. The questions, picking through the paperwork, trying to find any little fault. Badgering me about the cats, their value, kitten value, breeding and anything he could seem to think of. Ok enough is enough. I let him have every piece of Maine Coon information I could think of, every technical detail. I am also going on about how inhumane it is to keep these poor creatures in a noisy warehouse unnecessarily. I do not have a soft quiet voice. The tide is now turning here and the other people in the office are starting to agree with me and the low rumbling is starting. I must say at this point the officer showed some intelligence and figured now it was a good idea to get me out of there. Even his peers behind the counter were getting a little frustrated with his behaviour. In the end it was decided they were pets. Call them gifts, small dollar value, no duty, stamp the paperwork and leave. As I am leaving though he just couldn’t let it be. “Wait just a minute. I want to clear this with my supervisor.” Oh no here we go again. He very arrogantly asks his supervisor if he has any problem with how “he handled this situation”’. The supervisor responded that the situation was fine; he had a problem with the officer and wished me a nice day. Victory!

Papers in hand again, back to the cargo office, dragging hubby along. Someone has to carry that cage! The gentleman there was again great. Stamped the papers, took my money, gave me my cats and was just a pleasant person to deal with. Cats in hand, back to the van.

What beauties, from what I could see at that point. I immediately called the breeder and informed her that I had the girls and we were on our way home. All was well and I would email her later. No sooner do I hang up than a fellow from the cargo office comes running across the parking lot. Just when you think it is over. At this point I am ready just to start the van and drive, but he was a pleasant fellow so courtesy demanded I not run him over in the parking lot. Seems he forgot to give me a receipt for the cargo charges, have a nice day.

This was just about all I could take for one day. We headed for home. Our adventure to the airport is something we still talk about and we can laugh now. Would I do this again? You bet! My girls are wonderful and worth every bit of the effort to get them here.

Deb

PS…we did it again!

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