Operation Basbousa Dawn
shipping my dog from Egypt to Jordan was...an experience
Friends, I am five subscribers away from hitting 1,000 readers and NOT THAT NUMBERS MATTER OR ANYTHING but I still just need to say: Wow. Thank you. And! If you have a moment after sobbing over the harrowing puppy tale that follows, please go check out my interview with
of Not That You Asked, out today—click here to read it!
You may remember that I snatched a tiny lost puppy off the streets of Cairo just before we were set to move away. You can read the full story here, but to summarize: this dog appeared in front of my building one day as if dropped there by the stork, and thus I believe it was divinely ordained that she be mine.
My husband Nick, pragmatist that he is, did not want to adopt her, because adding a two-month-old puppy to the stress of an impending international move objectively made no sense. Also, he is allergic to dogs—a tragic flaw I was willing to overlook when I married him but started to rethink when said puppy appeared. We went back and forth and back and forth about the fate of this poor creature, and eventually we reached an impasse. There was only one thing left to do to get my way, the one move in my repertoire against which Nick was defenseless: cry. So cry I did. Then Nick cried a little, too. And the next day, friends, that sweet baby angel was MINE. I’m not proud of my methods, but my womanly wiles have to be good for something, and what better something than a roly-poly puppy?
I digress! We named her Basbousa (nickname Boo) and for the next eight weeks we lived happily ever after in pee-soaked bliss. But a storm cloud loomed over our contented threesome.