Taking Germany With a Pitbull
When life makes you choose between your husband and your best friend, you learn to beat the system.
We all have that best friend, that ride or die, the yin to your yang, the one you can just look at and know what they’re thinking. For some that might their husband, others maybe a childhood friend or a sibling, but for me, it’s my 94lb pit mix, Blue. A little back story on Blue, she has been the only constant in my life for seven years. She has been there for me during my lowest and darkest moments, and I oftentimes realize how saving her life kept me from taking my own.
So you can imagine the dilemma I was given when my husband was being transferred to Germany, a breed-restricted country that has a zero-tolerance Pitbull law, for a three-year work program.
Rehoming Blue was out of the question, and I wasn’t super excited about being away from my husband for three years either. I was going to make sure I exhausted every single option I had before throwing in the towel and giving in to living apart from him. I finally settled on taking the risk and flying halfway across the world with Blue. I was hopeful she would make it through customs without any issues if I put a hat on her and told people she was a lab. I spent weeks researching all of their requirements for vaccinations, records, crate standards, and flying certifications and started scheduling appointments to get all my ducks in a row.
My first trip to get her travel-ready was for an updated copy of her vaccinations and a health certificate. It was during this visit that my vet asked if I wanted her breed changed. Her breed changed? I can change her breed?!
With Blue being a mixed breed AND a rescue, the vet said there was no way (without DNA testing) to know if she is more pit or more of the mixed breed (Basenji), and there is no reason why her papers couldn’t say ‘Basenji Mix’ instead of ‘Pit Mix’.
When I tell you my soul left my body in excitement at that moment, I mean I could’ve picked up Blue and ran across the ocean to Germany right there.
With her traveling crate up to par with the standard, her vaccination and health certificate, and newly updated breed papers, we confidently headed for JFK Airport to start the next chapter of our lives together.
To say the trip to Frankfurt was a breeze would an understatement. After arriving at the airport in NY and checking into the flight, Blue casually walked around meeting hundreds of people until it was boarding time and she had to be loaded into her crate and put under the plane. The international airline even had a veterinarian under the plane with the animals to ensure their safety during the long 8-hour flight over to Europe. I was pleasantly surprised twice when the flight attendant woke me to let me know Blue was doing just fine, drinking water and eating her snacks, and was showing no signs of distress.
Upon arriving in Frankfurt to meet up with my husband who had already been there 2 weeks, my worst nightmare came true. It was 5 am on a Sunday morning during a holiday weekend in Germany, and as I waited in customs for Blue’s crate to be rolled out with all of the other pets, I was informed she would have to be quarantined because her breed needed to be confirmed, and I could call the German Customs office on Tuesday morning for more information.
Like a momma bear protecting her cubs, I went into full-on Karen mode. I was not leaving that airport without my dog. For four and a half hours I argued, yelled, explained, pleaded, and cried, until one agent who I suspect I had emotionally beat down, gave in and released her to me. We hurried out of that airport as fast as we could, (and before he could change his mind) and straight to our new home to start our new adventure as a family.
The challenges of having Blue over there didn’t end at the airport, and looking back I don’t know why I expected them to. With Pit bulls being a banned breed over there, she was a very rare and unusual sight for people to see. They were either super interested and wanted to touch her and take her pictures, or they were absolutely terrified, there was no in-between. We quickly adjusted to living life with her under the radar. We would take our walks on trails in the forest instead of downtown or around the neighborhood, we would drive to open fields or vineyards daily to let her run around instead of the dog parks. Anything to keep the attention off of her, we would do.
Some days were challenging though, to be living in such a dog-friendly country that your own dog wasn’t welcomed in. Seeing dogs at restaurants, and in grocery stores, and at sporting events, while yours is at home or hiding out in the forest for exercise, was disheartening.
We traveled frequently while living in Europe, oftentimes driving over borders into France, Belgium, Luxembourg, or Switzerland, and we were sure to take Blue on every single trip with us. She wasn’t outcasted in those countries and was able to enjoy the same benefits as all of the other dogs while traveling. She hiked mountains, swam in the Mediterranean Sea, ate at bistros, and basked in the presence of the Eiffel Tower.
Once our time in Europe was over, and the journey back to the states began, I thought for sure the flight back would be just as easy (hopeful, as I was making the trip alone again). I couldn’t have been more wrong. With Germany not being “Pit Bull” friendly, Blue had to stay crated from the minute we got to the airport, until we landed back in New York, almost 14 hours. As if that didn’t make me feel guilty and awful enough, I assumed we would again have a veterinarian under the plane since it was the same airline, wrong about that too. After an anxious 8 hour flight, picking up checked bags, and impatiently awaiting at the cargo area to receive Blue in her crate and let her out (mainly to go potty), I once again watched 6 other crates roll out and not one was her. Panic set in again and I began to relive the same nightmare that haunted me 3 years before, except this time I was told they couldn’t find her.
At least in Germany’s fiasco, I knew they had her and she was safe, but TSA in New York simply said that she didn’t come off the plane. I refused to accept the notion that Blue was left at the airport in Germany, alone. I had asked the flight attendant twice before departure if she was on the plane, and they had assured me she was. To say panic ensued is an extreme understatement.
Absolutely frantic, I cried for help to anyone who would listen to me. I caused such a scene that they sent over an air marshall in the airport to deal with me, and lucky for me he was also a dog lover and dog dad. He told me to sit tight while he scoured the airport, the loading docks, the baggage areas, and the plane.
What felt like an eternity later (but was actually about 45 minutes) he came walking through the doors with Blue on her leash! Completely unphased by her missing crate, I ran and threw my body onto the floor with her for the tightest embrace I’ve ever given. He had found her in her crate on the tarmac, in the hot sun. Apparently, they had taken her off the plane first and just forgot her there. The dog-loving air marshall was kind enough to cut the mandatory zip ties off her crate and let her out immediately for water and a potty break, but then had no way of getting her back in there.
He helped me load all of the baggage, the empty crate, and blue into a cab that he also paid for, and wished us the best of luck. I am still forever grateful for that friendly stranger.
Looking back on that entire experience I wouldn’t trade it for anything and would do it over again in a heartbeat. Sure the journey over there and back were challenging, and yes, sometimes it was hard to always fly under the radar and keep as much attention off of her as possible. But we were blessed with an opportunity to see that world that most only dream about. We saw so many countries, so many beautiful places, made so many incredible memories. From shelter dog to world traveler, Blue has experienced more in those 3 years abroad than most will ever experience in their lifetime. Your best life truly does begin at the end of your comfort zone.
