I HATE crossing the border. Even though I know that I'm doing nothing wrong, I still get this mini-anxiety attack when I pull up to their little window. They ask so many questions. I know they are trying to trip you up. Where are you going? What's in that bag? Where do you live? How long will you be gone? But the question that got me this last time that I crossed back into the U.S. was, "Do you have any cat food?"
I ALWAYS tell them when I have my cat in the car (the last thing I need is to get pulled over for trying to smuggle a life animal over the border), but no one has EVER asked me if I had cat food (in all actuality, I thought they'd have more problems with the kitty litter box on the back seat).
I told them that yes, I had cat food. How much? A couple cups. Is it in the original packaging? No... I pour it into a
Tupperware container. By this point I am getting really confused. Then the guy sticks this orange post-it note thing on my wind shield and tells me to park my car and go see someone at the agriculture desk inside (and he TAKES MY PASSPORT.... this worried me a bit).
My mother was with me on this trip, so we park the car and the two of us head into the building... still not quite sure what's going on. We stand in line behind a large family that appears to be of some eastern European decent (and also appears very confused). There is no one at the counter helping them, though they appear that they have been helped and are waiting for someone to return. So, Mom and I wait. Finally one of the immigration officers tells us to step to the other counter where another office is working on something. So, we go over there. And, without a word, the officer that was there picked up and left... never to be seen (by us) again. And, we wait some more.
FINALLY this woman comes up and asked if we'd been helped. I was not happy to see this particular woman... she was the same one who tried to
fine me $300 for an apple. She took my little post it. And told me that I wasn't suppose to bring cat food into the country because it may have lamb in it (...so?). And then she just stared at me!
lol I asked her what my options were and she told me that I could either turn around and take it home, or she would dispose of it. After sitting in line at the border for over an hour, I was most definitely NOT going to turn around and take 4 cups of cat food back home. So I told her to go ahead and get rid of it. Then she asked me which car was mine and where the cat food was. I told her and she told us to remain inside.
I could see her from the window... and she inspected my entire car. Even popped the trunk even though I'd told her that the cat food was in the back seat. My mother, somewhat
naively, seeing the women poke around in my trunk asked if she should go out and tell the woman where it was. I told her NO.
lol... the last thing I needed was for my mother to walk outside against a border officer's orders and get detained for further questioning! Finally the woman brought my cat food inside, dumped it out, handed me the container back and told me that she'd left the small amount of food that was actually in his food dish.
Wow... wasn't that nice?
lolAnd we were on our way again...
Fast forward to weeks later, crossing back into Canada...
The signs along the freeway said that the wait at the border would be about 10 minutes. I was very pleased about this as I had been driving for a LONG time. I stopped in Blaine, got some gas, and then drove a few more blocks to the Hwy 543 border crossing. Right before the lanes split cars were backed up. One by one border agents were letting cars drive through a check point; every 5
th car or so they stopped and had their drug dogs sniff around. I was so worried that they were going to stop me and the dogs were going to freak out 'cause I had a cat in the back seat!
lol (I know this is highly unlikely since they are trained drug dogs, but they thought still crossed my mind). Thankfully, I wasn't stopped and continued on to.
There were about 4 lanes open at the border, two on the right, and two on the left. Right in the middle (in a now-closed lane), about one car length from the window, was an RV... with a tow truck in front of it trying to hook it up!
lol I would NOT want to be those people!
As I packed up my life yet again, and get ready to say goodbye to Canada, I am trying to get all of my "affairs" in order. One of those things that you do when you move is fill out a change of address form at the post office. Back home it's not a big deal. You can even take it home and just mail it back to your post office. Easy easy. So, as such, I was expecting the same thing up here. I picked up a form at the post office, filled it out and was going to mail it in, however, I did not see any mailing address indicated on it. So, today, I walked over to the post office to hand deliver it.
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