Leaving Cold Spring Part II

Peter, for a time had worked as a falconer at JFK airport where they scared geese from the runway using birds of prey. He also was a hard-hat diver and would inspect bridges in and around Manhattan. After the things we'd done in our past...moving to Africa was a natural progression.

We raised a baby chick into a rooster who came indoors to watch TV with us, crowed when the kids left for school and crowed again when they were to return. We found him a home as a pet for a Peruvian woman in town. Years later, when we returned to the USA for a visit, we went to see Fried. And you know what? He came right over to us. Stood next to the kids as he had done so many times before, as if no time had gone by.

And then there was Oz. When we moved out of the city, my husband wanted an English setter puppy. There I was with a toddler and a puppy in the middle of the country...I was going out of my mind!

But come time to move to Africa, there was no question that Oz had to come with us. His airfare was it turned out was more than each of ours and he had to get a series of shots that cut it so close to our departure that we wondered if they would even let him into the country.

As it turned out, his paperwork would take so long that a fax arrived the day before we were to leave and we hoped customs would accept it in lew of a signed document. As we were boarding the limo for the airport, the nurse from the Vet’s office personally drove the paperwork to us, making Oz’s official documentation legal by a matter of minutes.

How difficult was that limo ride? My mom, brother, and some friends were at our house to say good-bye. We were too excited to be sad. As our town disappeared from view and we waved good bye to Miss Connie’s Montesorri, the playground, the view of the Hudson River, I felt a surge of gratitude to the many people who made this move such a natural progression. It would be this part of the journey that made me take note of each and every step, misstep, side step and leap of faith that progressed us from one stage of our life to another. How easy it is now to look back and see where we were going all along.  

Arriving at the airport, our baggage handlers were so kind. They asked where we were going and why so much stuff. We’re moving to Africa. This is everything we own in the world pointing to the thirteen boxes and our dog. We had sold just about everything else including our car and soon, our home.

At the ticket counter, they also handled us. Charging us for just a few of the extra bags and paying close attention to our dog. It would be a 22-hour flight to Johannesburg before Oz could get out of the crate.

I had gone to my friend’s astrologer. Hey, I was up-rooting my family and everything we knew, I had to consult someone! And the astrologer knew things, intimate things, and she was very precise.

Early on in our relationship, Peter and I were killing time, walking around Philly. It was Friday the 13^th, near mindnight when we stumbled upon a palm reader. She took Peter’s hand and went on and on, enthusiastic and enthralled with his good fortune. She was very specific with dates and just as she had said, the sun and water would be very important to Peter. After all, he was leaving to go to Botswana with the Peace Corps. And she said, be careful of your health in November. And that’s when his back gave out and he had to be flown to South Africa, then released from the Peace Corps and returned to me.

This astrologer told us to travel with the dog. We asked if he could be on the plane with us but he was a tall dog, not a lap dog and the airlines said no. Heeding her warning, I worried that something would happen to him. Nothing bad could happen to any of us or that would prove this decision was a wrong one. Nothing bad better happen, I prayed to no one in particular. Please don’t let anything bad happen to us.