Dogster

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The Life and Times of an Immigrant Dog

Coming to the United States

It was mid-July when my new person placed me in a cage. I was confused, but she said it was OK and I trusted her, although not enough to eat or drink. Then I was shoved underneath a bus for a long trip from Patzcuaro, Mexico to Guadalajara. Upon reaching Guadalajara it was another Taxi ride to the airport, and then the chaos started. The flight we were scheduled to be on couldn't take us because of weather. Instead, we had to find another flight. My person wandered the airport until she found an airline that could take us to Los Angeles. We would have to find another flight once we reached LA, but at least we'd be in the US. It was a lonely flight and I barked, but soon we arrived in LA and it was another scramble to find another flight. By the time we reached our destination, I had spent almost 24 hours in the cage. We still had the car ride home. Luckily, I was allowed to ride outside the cage. Once I got home, I met the rest of the family: my person's brother and sister as well as the two dogs and three cats. I was excited to be somewhere that I could run around and all the new smells. Being a spaniel-type dog, I had to smell everything. But it was a new place and I quickly insisted on being with my person that night, instead of sleeping with the other dogs. A few days later, I had a vet appointment to get my shots, other than rabies, which I received the vaccine for in Mexico. The vet said he was amazed I was so healthy, but put me on a de-wormer and flea treatment. My person says I've grown three-quarters of an inch since we arrived in the US. I don't know what that means, but it must be good news.