Live from Beijing

Two of America’s most famous sons arrived in Beijing yesterday (Monday). There are, of course, a couple of differences between President Obama and me.

The President probably didn’t spend a couple hours today anxiously trying to arrange a trip to the local police station to register. It’s unlikely that President Obama brought his dog with him, but had he decided to, he might have had a little less trouble getting the dog into China.

Here’s what happened with Duke.

All went along swimmingly from Geneva to Paris. I even managed to get Duke out for a walk at Charles De Gaulle Airport. I picked her up in Beijing, along with the pet facilitator person who met me. Duke's cage didn’t smell which meant that unlike the trip in which we brought her from San Francisco to France... well, I’m sure you get the idea. Anyway, the trouble started when we tried to get Duke through doggie customs or whatever it’s called in Beijing.

I had her French passport. They really do call it that. The passport is a listing of all Duke's shots, given within the last thirty days. I also had her international health certificate, signed by a French vet within the last month. Just in case I brought her complete medical history that is in a two inch thick binder. The problem was that the health certificate didn’t have a government stamp (chop) on it.

So we left the airport without Duke to go to the facilitator’s store where we learned that we could ship her back to France and have Duke get the appropriate documents, go with her and get them ourselves, or engage in a cumbersome Fed Ex procedure which would likely take several days to get things chopped.

After sitting and pondering our unattractive options, Jean (my wife) and I were told, kind of offhandedly, that there might be another option. Apparently, and rather miraculously, the extra paper work could be accomplished within China. There were some expenses involved but wow, talk about a can do place. Duke was whisked through customs I suppose (we weren’t actually there) and arrived at our locators. We brought Duke home where she promptly inaugurated our apartment with portions of the new dog food we had gotten at the locators.

Today was devoted to getting out and about a bit, unloading things, and oh yeah, worrying about, and never managing to get to, the police station. So, just like the nearly two years we spent as illegal immigrants in France (yeah, the truth can come out now), I won’t really feel good until I manage to become official here tomorrow morning.

Here are Jean and Duke in our new digs.