Paw Print Stories
Samira has a big story.
Samira’s story
By David Rubincam
2006 words
I worked at the US Embassy in Riyadh, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia as the Legal Attaché (Legat) for one year starting in August 2008. Nothing here can prepare someone for what they will experience in Saudi Arabia. Predictably, some experiences were as harsh and inhospitable as the landscape itself. Yet even in the most inhospitable places you can suddenly find miracles as a result of the actions of many good people. To properly put this story in context you should know that Saudis generally do not keep pets and that stray cats rarely live beyond four miserable years in the harsh desert climate. Kittens rarely live beyond one week after birth.
About a year and a half ago, a small calico cat gave birth to a litter of kittens near the security entrance to an airbase located in the remote desert just outside Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The airbase is protected by the Saudi Royal Guards and the US Air Force. In an act of kindness the Saudi Royal guards who found the cat and two surviving kittens took them to the American side knowing that the Americans had a US Army veterinarian assigned to the base. The US Air Force turned over the severely dehydrated and starving cat and her two kittens to the veterinarian who brought them back to health and, once old enough, proceeded to find good homes for the two kittens with American families assigned in the area. Except for extraordinary cases, the base policy for adult cats brought into the clinic is to spay/neuter and release. The little calico eventually proved to be one of those extraordinary cases. While the cat’s friendly and playful demeanor was noted by Saudi and US security as well as the veterinarian, one initial concern regarding any attempt at adoption in this case was that the cat had apparently received some form of blunt force trauma that left her with little feeling on the left side of her face and difficulty closing one eye. Some potential adoption candidates stopped by the clinic over the next seven months to see her but were somewhat put off by her injury as well as the fact that she had a rather severe reaction to attempts to pick her up. The veterinarian would not give up on her nor stop trying to find her a home.
The cat had been in the care of the air base clinic for about nine months when the Air Force made a hyperlink available to the vet as part of a web page upgrade. By coincidence, in December of 2008, I noticed the new veterinary service hyperlink and opened it out of curiosity. I rationalized that it couldn’t hurt to look at the cats available for adoption since I certainly couldn’t take one. I was hardly in a work situation where I’d have time to care for a cat. And of course, it would be nearly impossible to transport a cat all the way back to Seattle at the end of my assignment . . . or so I thought!
After seeing the small mostly white calico’s picture on the web page, I soon found myself making an excuse to just happen to stop by the veterinarian’s office later that week while visiting the air base on business. Upon arrival, the vet and two Air Force security officers happened to be at the kennel to look in on the “multinational rescue cat” as was their practice at that time each day. Both the vet and the security personnel warned me that she was sweet enough but NOT to try to pick her up. While I sat in a chair in front of the kennels, the vet let the cat out. She immediately proceeded to my chair, hopped up on my lap, into my arms and started to purr. Everyone’s jaw dropped –she had never done that before! She licked my face and curled up in my arms as if she had been waiting for me to arrive. I suddenly realized three things: (1) looks like I just got adopted by this little cat, (2) it was going to be an interesting ride home at the end of my assignment, and (3) the Ambassador would be either amused or disturbed by the story I would be telling him in about 20 minutes about why I have cat hair all over my black suit. With the meeting with the Ambassador looming, I made arrangements to come back the next day to pick up the cat (which would also allow me the time to see what if any cat supplies I could find in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia!).
Later that day, the Ambassador and other Embassy officials were amused by both my story and my weak attempt to remove the cat hair from my suit. One senior staffer said, “We now have a Legat cat!”
I returned to the air base the following day as promised, to pick up the cat and barely noticed that I was being met with smiles from both the Saudi and US side of the security entrance. When I arrived at the veterinary clinic it was now my turn to drop my jaw. Inside the clinic to greet me and offer congratulations was the Air Base Commanding General (who it turns out is quite a “cat person”), about 15 US security personnel who had at one time or another cared for the cat, and surprisingly the Colonel from the Saudi Royal Guard and five members of his detachment; including the two who had originally rescued the cat and her kittens. The cat’s adoption of me had suddenly taken on diplomatic dimensions.
When I arrived back at my house I observed my new companion as she explored what was to be her home for the next nine months. Fortunately, my house had many large view windows, as that was the only way she was gong to see Saudi Arabia from now on. In honor of the way she came to me, I decided to give her a name suitable for such a sweet companion; I named her Samira which means “delightful companion” in Arabic.
While serving out the remainder of my assignment, Samira continued to acquire quite an international fan club. When I traveled to neighboring countries on business, Samira’s caretakers, who visited my home twice a day included Legat office personnel who came to be known as “Aunt” Gloria, “Aunt” Simone, “Aunt” Brenee, “Uncle” Imad, “Uncle” Mohammed; my Saudi neighbor, “Uncle” Yousef and his wife “Aunt” Noora; a US Air Force Colonel (who had himself adopted a cat from the Air Base), “Uncle” Ted; a Canadian government service colleague, “Uncle” Alan; and a senior Saudi government liaison associate who had attended Seattle University earlier in life, “Uncle” Bandar.
It took two months to complete all of the paperwork necessary to bring Samira home to Vashon Island. I needed to obtain an Export Permit from the Ministry of Agriculture. A Saudi veterinarian who had provided medical attention to Samira after the Saudi Royal Guards first rescued her, provided me the expedite necessary for those documents. The other necessary documents included a European Union health certificate that had to be sent to the veterinarian at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris (I was to fly home on Air France) and a USDA Health Certificate necessary for the veterinary inspection upon arrival at Sea-Tac International Airport. These documents are affectionately called a “pet passport”. The Air Base veterinarian hesitantly provided me with a “light” sedative to calm Samira during the flights. I paid for an upgrade to business class and had obtained permission from Air France to fly with Samira all the way to Seattle in cabin. On a disappointing note, NO American air carrier would allow me to do this, only the French, Dutch, and German air carriers. So much for “fly America”.
The day I left for Seattle, I took Samira by the US Embassy and to see my Saudi colleagues. They had all insisted that I bring her by before leaving so I was surprised to see many of the senior staffers again at Riyadh International Airport. It would seem they had “greased the skids” with both Air France and airport security to ensure that Samira had a smooth departure from the Kingdom! By this time she was almost too sleepy to notice due to the sedative; a sedative I was soon to regret having given to her.
The Air France flight crew was great. I sat at a window seat. They advised that, not having a full Business/First Class flight, they would keep the seat next to me empty so I could put her carrier on that seat in flight if desired. The first leg of our itinerary was from Saudi Arabia to Paris, France. About half way through the seven-hour flight, Samira began to cry and started scratching and biting at the webbed sides of the carrier. The sedative that was working according to prescription at ground level was suddenly affected her like PCP. Fortunately, most of the Business/First Class crew were either “cat people” or had seen this happen before. They let me take Samira into the crew’s lounge to calm her down. After about two hours the sedative fortunately began to wear off. Samira calmed down, now genuinely tired from the ordeal. The Air France crew was incredibly supportive. They each came to see how she was doing. Back at our seat before landing Samira was now meowing “I’m hungry”. The flight crew made her a small breakfast that I fed her through at the opening of her carrier that I now held on my lap.
During our four-hour layover in Paris, the Air France Business Lounge senior manager took to Samira right away. When I asked her if there was anywhere I could give my cat some water and assemble my makeshift litter box to allow Samira to relieve herself, she made a very clean and unused handicapped bathroom Samira’s sanctuary for about an hour until those tasks were completed. All of the Air France Lounge staff was equally helpful, offering to bring me food and beverage so I could continue to care for Samira, each telling me his or her own cat story. To my surprise, the airport veterinarian even stopped by to see how Samira was doing and advised against giving her any more sedative for the next leg of the itinerary, advice that was certainly unnecessary at this point.
The second leg of our itinerary was the eleven-hour haul from Paris to Seattle. This leg was fortunately uneventful and for the this second flight Samira also had an attentive and admiring flight crew who all offered to sit with her in case I needed to stretch or otherwise be away from my seat, which was quite heartwarming considering the Sherpa bag containing Samira wasn’t exactly going to walk away!
Upon arrival at Seattle International Airport, the Customs and Border Protection (CBP) staff warmly greeted Samira, giving her the VIP treatment as we processed back to the United States. At one point the CBP Chief leaned over the carrier and announced, “Welcome to the US, Samira!”
Samira is now at our home just south of Dockton and is quickly learning to trust my wife and get along with our other cat named Trill, who was a VIPP adoption back in 2001. The process is working as smoothly as the two cats will allow, for the most part due to the “Gandhi like” nature of our Vashon cat —go figure!
The lesson of Samira’s story that I want to convey, if not self-evident, is that it took caring and charitable actions by a lot of people from a number of countries, backgrounds, and religions to save Samira and bring her to where she is today; in a loving home with a fenced yard around the house, where she is discovering the color green, colder temperatures, and yes — rain — for the first time!
David Rubincam