Quand mon chihuahua apatride devient pourtant mannequin.

🇬🇧 This article is also available in English — read it here.

Peut-ĂȘtre avez-vous entendu l’incroyable histoire de Precious, le chihuahua adoptĂ© Ă  la ASPCA de Phoenix en Arizona il y a 3 ans. Il m’aura fallu dĂ©ployer des trĂ©sors de patience et surtout une somme d’argent incroyable et imprĂ©vue pour le rapatrier. Une mĂ©saventure et des tracasseries qui auraient pu ĂȘtre Ă©vitĂ©es si chaque personne avait fait ce qui lui Ă©tait demandĂ© Ă  la base.

J’avais d’abord repĂ©rĂ© la petite chienne sur le site de la ASPCA et lorsque je l’ai aperçue « en vrai » dans cette gigantesque cage Ă  Phoenix, elle semblait encore plus minuscule. Elle Ă©tait entourĂ©e par deux chiens tellement grands qu’elle paraissait inexistante. Son parcours avait Ă©tĂ© horrible, enlevĂ©e Ă  ses maĂźtres parce que nĂ©gligĂ©e et abusĂ©e, elle pesait Ă  peine 1,5 kilos. Precious avait dĂ» avoir les pattes cassĂ©es. Elle en gardait une bizarre maniĂšre de marcher. Le petite chienne Ă©tait dĂ©jĂ  une vedette au refuge. Elle Ă©tait passĂ©e Ă  la tĂ©lĂ©vision dans l’Ă©mission Animal Cops Phoenix, qui diffuse les reportages d’une Ă©quipe de policiers animaliers.

Chaque annĂ©e, je choisis d’aider un refuge, souvent espagnol pour soutenir les galgos (je dirige aussi une association qui aide les animaux et plus particuliĂšrement les lĂ©vriers espagnols en plus de ma sociĂ©tĂ© Ă©vĂ©nementielle et de mon combat pour aider les artistes amĂ©rindiens). Je me rends donc dans un refuge amĂ©ricain pour leur dĂ©poser l’argent de mes collectes faites au cours de l’annĂ©e. J’ai aussi dĂ©cidĂ© de ramener un petit chien en provenance des USA.

Pour ĂȘtre certaine de remplir tous les critĂšres en matiĂšre de procĂ©dures hyper compliquĂ©es, j’ai contactĂ© la compagnie aĂ©rienne belge avec qui je pars. Habituellement, je vole avec British Airways que j’affectionne particuliĂšrement pour le service impeccable, mais comme il y a une quarantaine sur les animaux, j’ai adaptĂ© mes plans.

La compagnie belge ayant confirmĂ© sur base de mon numĂ©ro de vol et du billet d’avion, qu’un chien pouvait effectivement voyager en cabine Ă  condition d’ĂȘtre de petite taille et dans une cage, je n’ai pas hĂ©sitĂ© Ă  adopter le petit chihuahua.

Et puis les problĂšmes commencĂšrent…

Parce que les exigences de l’union europĂ©enne diffĂšrent en fonction des pays, j’ai Ă  nouveau voulu me faire reconfirmer qu’aucun document ne me manquait pour le retour. Je disposais bien de tous les documents, mais … La rĂ©ponse de la compagnie m’a sidĂ©rĂ©e : interdiction de ramener un chien car vous ĂȘtes en classe business.

« Comment ça ? En business, oui et alors ? Vous le saviez non ? ». « Euh oui, enfin je ne sais pas. »

J’apprends (lorsque je suis sur place bien sĂ»r) que le vol, opĂ©rĂ© par United Airlines sur la partie amĂ©ricaine, n’autorise pas le retour du chien ! C’est une blague j’espĂšre ?

  1. Nulle part sur le site de la compagnie avec laquelle j’ai embarquĂ© il est indiquĂ© qu’un chien est interdit sur un vol Phoenix / Bruxelles en classe business.
  2. Je les ai appelé avant le départ pour vérifier et la réponse était positive pour tout le vol.
  3. J’ai rĂ©servĂ© et payĂ© l’entiĂšretĂ© du vol chez eux (sans mĂȘme d’abord savoir qu’une partie Ă©tait sous traĂźtĂ©e via United Airlines).

Je pensais que joindre United Airlines allait solutionner les choses. J’ai donc passĂ© de nombreux appels vers Bruxelles et vers United sur place afin de trouver une solution. La proposition de la compagnie amĂ©ricaine ? « Voyez avec Brussels Airlines, vous n’avez pas rĂ©servĂ© en direct via nous ! Ils connaissent nos rĂšgles ». Fin de non recevoir ! Merci le service client pour les deux compagnies aĂ©riennes.

Entretemps, il reste une semaine avant le vol retour. Dans l’attente d’une dĂ©cision dĂ©finitive, je n’ai d’autre choix que de continuer les procĂ©dures avec l’USDA (l’organisme officiel qui dĂ©livre les documents de sortie). Ces documents doivent ĂȘtre datĂ©s de moins de 10 jours avant le dĂ©part. Comme je suis en Arizona et que le siĂšge de l’USDA est dans un autre Ă©tat, je vous laisse deviner le prix des courriers express. Il faut aussi une premiĂšre visite chez un vĂ©tĂ©rinaire pour vĂ©rifier la santĂ© du chien et une seconde visite pour signer un document qui devra ensuite ĂȘtre contresignĂ© par l’USDA : coĂ»t 350 dollars.

Quelles solutions j’ai envisagĂ© ?
1. Négocier avec Brussels Airlines ? En cours, mais on sait ce que cela a donné ensuite : rien
2. NĂ©gocier avec United Airlines ? Impossible, ils renvoient vers la compagnie aĂ©rienne auprĂšs de laquelle j’ai achetĂ© le billet.
3. Proposer mon siĂšge en business Ă  une personne qui sera trĂšs contente d’ĂȘtre upgradĂ©e ? Interdit pour une question de sĂ©curitĂ©. Fallait oser mais ils l’ont fait.
4. Donner le chien à une personne en classe normale (contre rémunération) alors que je voyage en business ? Interdit par la compagnie aérienne. Rebelote
5. Changer de vol ? Difficile mais en cours

Le lendemain, j’ai enfin trouvĂ© (via mes rĂ©seaux sociaux, le cas de ce chien avait dĂ©jĂ  fait beaucoup de bruit) les coordonnĂ©es de la direction gĂ©nĂ©rale belge. Comme je ne me satisfais pas d’un mail rĂ©ponse du service clientĂšle me disant que j’aurais des nouvelles dans les 3 semaines (si, si, du vĂ©cu!), je dĂ©cide d’envoyer un courriel pour relater ma triste histoire et demander une intervention rapide.

1 jour plus tard, une rĂ©ponse de la direction qui me dit que tout va ĂȘtre mis en oeuvre pour nous aider Ă  ramener le chien. Ils vont contacter United Airlines. Quelle joie !

Quelques heures plus tard, via contact tĂ©lĂ©phonique, Bruxelles me confirme ne pas avoir reçu l’autorisation de United. On me propose de changer de vol et je marque de suite mon accord pour un changement, peu importe la date de dĂ©part si c’est endĂ©ans les 8 jours (je dois respecter le dĂ©lai des papiers du chien). La responsable va me rappeler le lendemain pour me communiquer l’Ă©ventuelle date.

En attendant je continue les procĂ©dures d’exportation du chien avec le USDA. Tout doit ĂȘtre prĂȘt pour le dĂ©part, faute de quoi il ne pourra pas embarquer s’il manque un seul document. Il aussi risque d’ĂȘtre refusĂ© Ă  son arrivĂ©e Ă  Bruxelles et ĂȘtre renvoyĂ© sur le sol amĂ©ricain.

Trois jours plus tard (ben oui, c’Ă©tait le weekend, personne n’a pris la peine de suivre le dossier, je n’y avais pas pensĂ© !), pas de nouvelles de Brussels Airlines malgrĂ© leur promesse.

Le départ se rapproche inexorablement et le stress monte.

Que faire ?
1. Rendre ce chien Ă  l’ASPCA (et ĂȘtre sur la liste noire, un comble pour une association).
2. Lui trouver une famille d’accueil dĂ©finitive sur place, mais en si peu de temps difficile.
3. Le faire garder par une famille d’accueil temporaire, le temps d’arranger les choses.
4. Rester aux Etats Unis et m’occuper du retour mais je suis sur place depuis un mois dĂ©jĂ , je ne peux pas indĂ©finiment rester.

J’ai envoyĂ© des mails sur le site Dog Vac Day afin de trouver un dog sitting pouvant garder Precious et me l’envoyer par un autre vol. Cela signifie que la personne devra aussi la conduire chez un vĂ©tĂ©rinaire pour la derniĂšre visite de contrĂŽle et ensuite dĂ©poser le chien Ă  l’aĂ©roport. Si par le plus grand des hasards, l’avion rĂ©servĂ© devait ĂȘtre dans plus de 4 jours, les papiers USDA ne seraient plus valables (pour rappel au maximum 10 jours avant le dĂ©part), il faudra alors tout recommencer.

Ensuite j’ai eu un contact avec les responsables d’un chenil qui gardent les animaux lorsqu’il y a des catastrophes naturelles (comme ce fut le cas pour le Hurricane Katrina). Ils sont d’accord de garder Precious le temps de trouver une solution, mais il faut impĂ©rativement quelqu’un sur place pour effectuer les derniĂšres dĂ©marches auprĂšs des autoritĂ©s amĂ©ricaines. Comme je ne rĂ©side pas de maniĂšre permanente sur le sol amĂ©ricain, ils ne peuvent s’occuper des dĂ©marches Ă  ma place. Je tiens cependant Ă  souligner la proactivitĂ© de cette organisation.

La mort dans l’Ăąme et complĂštement dĂ©goĂ»tĂ©e par le manque de sens commercial de Brussels Airlines, j’ai renvoyĂ© un dernier mail Ă  la compagnie aĂ©rienne pour signaler que nous n’avions pas d’autre choix que de laisser temporairement le chien sur place puisque de leur cĂŽtĂ© aucune solution n’Ă©tait proposĂ©e malgrĂ© les promesses donnĂ©es.

LA CONCLUSION :

2014-09-29 04.12.30J’ai trouvĂ© un transporteur indĂ©pendant pouvant (moyennant beaucoup de $$$) s’occuper de l’entiĂšretĂ© de la paperasserie mais le chien doit ĂȘtre remis en chenil avec 3 jours de quarantaine et donc recommencer toute la procĂ©dure pour les documents et refaire Ă  cette pauvre bĂȘte des vaccins que tout le monde sait qu’elle a eu, mais qu’il faut pouvoir prouver avoir Ă©tĂ© fait moins de 10 jours avant le dĂ©part. Le tout prendrait +/- 3 semaines. Il faudra attendre 30 jours pour arriver en Belgique.

Nous partons donc sans le chien. A l’aĂ©roport de Phoenix, la reprĂ©sentante de United Airlines s’Ă©tonne « Mais vous voyagez avec un chien Ă  bord non ? ». J’avoue que cela ne m’a pas fait rire du tout !!

Vous avais-je dit que, 3 semaines plus tard, quand Precious est enfin arrivĂ©e, on lui avait volĂ© ses affaires et sa nourriture, qu’elle a voyagĂ© 38 heures sans sortir de sa cage (sic!) et que j’ai pu payer 500 euros pour la sociĂ©tĂ© de dĂ©douanement belge, en plus des frais occasionnĂ©s par le fait qu’elle n’ait pas pu partir Ă  la date prĂ©vue et qu’il a fallu lui rĂ©server un autre vol ? (total 5.000 dollars pour un chien qui en a coĂ»tĂ© 150 Ă  la base et 350 de papiers). Rien que 2.582 $ pour faire garder le chien sur place et faire les dĂ©marches dĂ©jĂ  faites.

Suite Ă  ma plainte, six mois plus tard, la compagnie belge m’a proposĂ© la grandiose et gĂ©nĂ©reuse compensation de 300 euros, montant que j’ai bien sĂ»r refusĂ©, leur signifiant que pour ce prix, je prĂ©fĂ©rais largement faire de la contre publicitĂ©.

Je tiens Ă  prĂ©ciser que je peux prouver tous les Ă©changes de mails et tous les frais engendrĂ©s par une affaire qui aurait pu ĂȘtre tellement simple s’il y avait eu de la bonne volontĂ© et reconnaissance de leur erreur Ă  la base.

Nul besoin de dire que depuis, je n’ai plus jamais Ă©tĂ© passagĂšre sur un vol des deux compagnies aĂ©riennes et ce n’est pas faute de beaucoup voyager. Ceux qui me connaissent le savent.

Entretemps, Precious est devenue mannequin chien et pourra sans doute, pour mon plus grand plaisir, encore beaucoup raconter sa mésaventure au monde.


When my stateless chihuahua became a model anyway

Perhaps you have heard the incredible story of Precious, the chihuahua I adopted from the ASPCA in Phoenix, Arizona, three years ago. Bringing her home required extraordinary patience and, above all, an incredible and completely unexpected amount of money. It was an ordeal and a succession of complications that could have been avoided if everyone had simply done what they were supposed to do in the first place.

I had first spotted the little dog on the ASPCA website, and when I finally saw her “in real life” in that enormous cage in Phoenix, she seemed even tinier. She was surrounded by two dogs so large that she almost disappeared beside them. Her past had been dreadful: she had been taken away from her owners because she had been neglected and abused, and she weighed barely 1.5 kilos. Precious appeared to have had broken legs and was left with a peculiar way of walking. The tiny dog was already something of a celebrity at the shelter. She had appeared on television in Animal Cops Phoenix, which followed the work of animal welfare officers.

Every year I choose a shelter to support, often a Spanish one because of my commitment to galgos. Alongside my events company and my efforts to support Native American artists, I also run an association helping animals, particularly Spanish greyhounds. So I went to an American shelter to hand over the money I had collected during the year. I had also decided to bring a small dog home from the United States.

To make absolutely certain that I complied with all the incredibly complicated procedures, I contacted the Belgian airline I was travelling with. I usually fly British Airways, which I particularly like for its impeccable service, but because of the quarantine rules affecting animals, I had adapted my plans.

The Belgian airline confirmed, on the basis of my flight number and ticket, that a dog could indeed travel in the cabin provided it was small and travelled in a carrier. So I did not hesitate to adopt the little chihuahua.

And then the problems began…

Because European Union requirements differ depending on the country, I wanted to reconfirm that I was not missing any documents for the return journey. I did have all the paperwork, but… the airline’s answer left me speechless: I was not allowed to bring a dog back because I was travelling in Business Class.

“What do you mean? Yes, I’m in Business Class — so what? You knew that, didn’t you?” “Er… yes, well, I don’t know.”

I then discovered — once I was already there, of course — that the flight, operated by United Airlines on the American sector, would not allow the dog to travel back with me. Surely this had to be a joke?

  1. Nowhere on the website of the airline with which I had booked did it say that a dog was prohibited on a Phoenix–Brussels journey in Business Class.
  2. I had called them before departure specifically to check, and the answer had been positive for the entire journey.
  3. I had booked and paid for the entire flight through them, without initially even knowing that part of it was being operated by United Airlines.

I thought contacting United Airlines would solve the problem. I therefore made numerous calls to Brussels and to United in the United States in an attempt to find a solution. The American airline’s proposal? “Speak to Brussels Airlines. You didn’t book directly with us! They know our rules.” End of discussion. Thank you very much to the customer service departments of both airlines.

By then there was one week left before my return flight. While waiting for a final decision, I had no choice but to continue the procedures with the USDA, the official body issuing the export documents. Those documents had to be dated less than ten days before departure. As I was in Arizona and the USDA office was in another state, you can imagine the cost of express couriers. There also had to be a first veterinary appointment to check the dog’s health and a second appointment to sign a document that would then have to be countersigned by the USDA: cost, $350.

What solutions did I consider?
1. Negotiate with Brussels Airlines? In progress — although we know how that eventually turned out: nothing.
2. Negotiate with United Airlines? Impossible. They referred me back to the airline through which I had bought the ticket.
3. Give my Business Class seat to somebody who would be delighted with an upgrade? Forbidden for security reasons. Yes, they actually said that.
4. Give the dog to someone travelling in Economy Class, in return for payment, while I travelled in Business? Forbidden by the airline. Here we go again.
5. Change flights? Difficult, but being explored.

The following day, thanks to my social networks — Precious’s case had already attracted a great deal of attention — I finally found the contact details for the Belgian senior management. I was not prepared to settle for a customer-service email telling me I would hear back within three weeks (yes, really — this actually happened!), so I sent an email explaining the whole miserable story and asking for urgent intervention.

One day later, management replied to say that everything possible would be done to help us bring the dog home. They were going to contact United Airlines. What a relief!

A few hours later, during a telephone conversation, Brussels confirmed that United had not given its authorisation. I was offered the possibility of changing flights and immediately agreed, regardless of the departure date provided it was within eight days, because I had to remain within the validity period of the dog’s paperwork. The person responsible promised to call me the next day with a possible date.

Meanwhile, I continued Precious’s export procedures with the USDA. Everything had to be ready for departure: if a single document was missing, she could be refused boarding. She could also be refused entry on arrival in Brussels and sent back to the United States.

Three days later (well yes, it was the weekend; nobody had bothered to follow the case — silly me for not thinking of that!), there was still no news from Brussels Airlines despite their promise.

Departure was getting inexorably closer and the stress was mounting.

What could I do?
1. Return the dog to the ASPCA — and end up blacklisted, quite something for an animal-welfare association.
2. Find her a permanent family in the United States, almost impossible at such short notice.
3. Find a temporary foster family while I sorted everything out.
4. Stay in the United States and organise her return myself, although I had already been there for a month and could not remain indefinitely.

I sent emails through Dog Vac Day trying to find a dog sitter who could keep Precious and send her to me on another flight. That would mean the person would also have to take her to a vet for the final check and then deliver her to the airport. If, by some extraordinary piece of bad luck, the booked flight was more than four days later, the USDA paperwork would no longer be valid — remember, it could be issued no more than ten days before departure — and the entire process would have to start again.

I then contacted the people running kennels that care for animals during natural disasters, as they had done during Hurricane Katrina. They agreed to keep Precious while a solution was found, but someone absolutely had to remain locally to complete the final formalities with the American authorities. As I was not permanently resident in the United States, they could not handle those procedures on my behalf. I nevertheless want to emphasise how proactive this organisation was.

With a heavy heart and utterly disgusted by Brussels Airlines’ lack of commercial sense, I sent one final email to the airline explaining that we had no choice but to leave Precious temporarily in the United States because, despite all their promises, they had offered no solution.

THE CONCLUSION:

2014-09-29 04.12.30I found an independent animal transporter who, for a great many $$$, could take care of all the paperwork. But Precious had to be placed in kennels for three days of quarantine, the documentation process had to start again and this poor animal had to be vaccinated again — vaccines everyone knew she had already received, but which now had to be proven to have been administered less than ten days before departure. The whole process would take around three weeks. It would be 30 days before she reached Belgium.

So we left without the dog. At Phoenix airport, the United Airlines representative looked surprised: “But you’re travelling with a dog on board, aren’t you?” I confess I did not find that funny at all!!

Did I mention that, three weeks later, when Precious finally arrived, her belongings and food had been stolen; that she had travelled for 38 hours without leaving her crate (sic!); and that I then had the pleasure of paying €500 to the Belgian customs-clearance company, on top of all the costs caused by the fact that she had been unable to travel on the original date and needed another flight? The total was $5,000 for a dog who had initially cost $150, plus $350 for the paperwork. Of that, $2,582 alone went on keeping her in the United States and repeating procedures that had already been completed.

Following my complaint, six months later the Belgian airline offered me the grand and generous compensation of €300. I naturally refused it, telling them that for that amount I would much rather give them some negative publicity.

I should point out that I can prove every email exchange and every expense generated by a situation that could have been so simple if there had been some goodwill and an acknowledgement of the original mistake.

Needless to say, I have never flown with either airline since — and it is certainly not because I do not travel much. Anyone who knows me knows that.

In the meantime, Precious has become a canine model and, much to my delight, will no doubt have plenty more opportunities to tell the world about her misadventure.

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