Target is an old boy going on a new adventure. Photos: Ellen Whyte
We have news. After 29 years in Malaysia, we're relocating to Britain. It's a wrench as we've been very happy here. However, the last visa application was so traumatic that we've decided to leave.
Moving country is a complex venture. We're not worried about ourselves; all our thoughts were for Target, Tic Tac and Inkie.
Thankfully, quarantine is a thing of the past. Rabies jabs and microchips mean each kitty has their own unique identifier and their own passport.
We engaged an agency to deal with paperwork and then faced the first crisis.
While Tic Tac and Inkie are young fluffs at three and two years respectively, Target is an old boy. With the shortest direct flight being 11 hours, we weren't sure if Target's age was a red flag.
Our fear was that Target would die from fright, alone in a travel crate. That fear broke our hearts.
The expert team made reassuring noises and gave sound advice on inoculation schedules, crate sizes, and more. They told us of elderly pets who were fine. However, they pointed out they're transport professionals and not vets.
Hearing the news, my brother consulted his vet in Saudi who has a lot of experience with international pets. His response was reassuring. He knew of old boys making the trip with no trouble. He said that a simple physical would tell us.
So, I took Target to see his personal physician, Dr Chris. As he pointed out, Target is a senior kitty but he's in good shape. No long flight is ever ideal, though. Like all life, it is a risk.
It was a relief but a temporary one. He suggested we ask the specialist transport vet for a second opinion.
Pet passports require quite a lot of prep. As a first step, we had to register for a microchip and rabies shot. Our vet doesn't do these; it's a specialist deal.
Thankfully, our other vet, the tech outfit with the X-ray machine, offer the service. Their opinion would be the clincher.
We'd heard rumours of rabies injections being harsh. We weren't sure if it was true, but we played safe and asked young Tic Tac and Inkie to be our pathfinders.
Tic Tac was super brave at the vet's.
So, three weeks ago, we set off. Tom came with us, ostensibly to carry fat Inkie, but I think secretly he spotted my pale face and decided I needed shoring up.
We were met by a senior vet and an interning vet. Tic Tac went first. Our princess gulped and shivered as I held her, but she behaved like an angel.
The first shot was a general booster, and as usual, I distracted her by rubbing her ears and talking nonsense. Some doctors are good with needles. Others jab as though they're chucking spears. My last injection left me with a bruise that looked as if I'd been punched by a troll.
This vet's technique was so impeccable that she didn't even notice it. By the time he got out the rabies shot, I was giving an excellent impression of a cool, calm, and collected woman.
And that's when he said it. "We give this shot in the back paw because on the very rare chance there's a bad reaction, we can amputate the leg."
My heart simply stopped. I gazed into Tic Tac's worried eyes and was all set to cancel the whole move. Tom gulped and I know he was thinking the same.
That's when I saw the intern nodding sagely. The aside was for her benefit. All inoculations carry risk, and the mentor was merely reminding the student of good practice.
While my heart battered my ribs, I hung in and rubbed my girl's ears vigorously. Again, the shot was lightning fast. And not a twitch from Tic Tac.
The microchip is like a small grain of rice. That delivery needle is terrifying. To make sure it was inserted properly, Tic Tac had a tiny patch on her neck shaved.
I was at her ears, reassuring and confident, and it was over in a split second. A tiny drop of blood, sealed with a little surgical glue, and we were done.
Inkie, a smart boy, was an inch tall throughout the process. If he could have, he would have activated an invisibility cloak.
Like his sister, he was a gentle hero, while I lost three kilos in nervous sweat.
When the vet warned that Inkie and Tic Tac might feel unwell for a day, we worried. However, apart from slightly warmer paws and feet, the cats were totally focused on making hay.
Tic Tac scored extra treats, and Inkie enjoyed a double breakfast, claiming extra tuna would banish his trauma.
A week later, it was Target's turn. As the vet examined him, Target and I trembled. I think it took about ten million years but at the end of it he received the green light.
Honestly, I don't remember much after that. I know I made jokes about rap cats when he had his neck shaved, and I welcomed him to the machine when his chip registered on the scanner. But mostly I remember going straight up to bed with him after and just lying there, hugging him.
The scariest part of the prep is done. We only need one blood test now, a week before we fly. If it all comes together, we leave in September or perhaps October.
We're sad to go but hopefully, with the Internet making communication simple, we can save much of our Malaysian life. Also, we're excited about the next chapter. Our home will have a garden and we plan to cat-proof it so Inkie and Tic Tac can play in the grass.
As for the cats, their passports are being created now. And as these documents require a family name, we had a fun dilemma.
Properly speaking, our cats should be Whyte-O'Daniel. However, as the apostrophe in Tom's name causes trouble every time we encounter red tape, we decided not to invite complications.
So it's official: it's Target Whyte, Tic Tac Whyte, and Inkie Whyte. New names for a new adventure.
Photo: SPCA Penang/Lily LengInterested adopters, please contact SPCA Penang, Jalan Jeti Jelutong, 11600 Jelutong, Penang (phone: 04-281 6559/ website https://spca-penang.net).
