Out and Back

Part I

Chapter 1 – Day Dreaming

If you can dream it, you can do it. – Walt Disney

Life is a journey, not a destination. It is an adventure to experience every day of our lives. True, some days are more exciting than others, but each day has the potential to carry us away on new exploits, meet unique people, or see old places afresh. We all have the ability to turn drab, monotonous times into days filled with excitement, wonder, and astonishment if we summon the courage to make the change. You need to tightly embrace the life of your dreams because if you do not, it will remain elusive and quietly slip past.

I was pondering this dilemma at work one dreary Seattle morning. Usually, the normal grey drizzle of Pacific Northwest winters does not faze me much. Having lived here for several years, I have grown accustomed to short days, little sunlight, and damp clothes for long weeks at a time. We are hardy folk. You know that you’re from Seattle when half of your wardrobe is made from Gore-Tex and the other half flannel. This January, however, more than just the dismal weather was getting me down.

I was in a rut. I tried my standard blahs remedy, a large mocha from Starbucks, to no avail. Usually, the warm green glow and intoxicating aroma when I walk in the door of my beloved coffee purveyors help chase away the doldrums. Not even their magic coffee-chocolate potion could shake the feeling that I was just marking time in life. I felt living but not alive.

I pondered what had gone wrong. How had I gotten to this place and time? In almost every way, my life was good by society’s measure. I had a good job. I was the director of a small private career college. The pay and benefits were adequate and afforded my family a stable upper-middle-class life. The position came with some level of prestige and a sense of personal accomplishment, too.

I was healthy. I exercised regularly. For being 40, I was in very good shape and even a little vain about my hard-earned physique. I wasn’t as young and energetic as I used to be, but all things considered, I was happy with the reflection in the mirror.

I had, and still have, a wonderful family. My loving wife of 15 years at the time is truly my best friend, inspiration, and support. She is my soulmate, for sure. Our two boys are amazing. They are both highly successful in the four S’s: school, sports, Scouts, and social activities. They have made us proud.

In every way I could think of, I was blessed. Yet, I felt unfulfilled. This feeling of emptiness gnawed at me as I sat back and drank my mocha while I stared blankly at the computer screen in my office, pretending to work. I knew I shouldn’t feel this way, which made me feel guilty for not appreciating what I had. What was wrong with me?

I reflected on my situation. I remember, as a young man being enthralled with National Geographic, which showcased exotic locations and people. I wanted to visit every place they presented in the pages of their magazine. Their centerfolds were truly awe-inspiring. Playboy couldn’t have excited me as much. I was addicted to travel. Little did I realize that it would be a life-long psychological condition.

After graduating high school, I went off to college in another state by myself. While most of my classmates opted for the local in-state university, I yearned for something different. Leaving old faces and places behind for new sights and fresh experiences stimulated me like nothing else could. I jumped at the chance when I got accepted to a faraway university and didn’t look back even once.

After school, I joined the United States Navy. Their old recruiting slogan resonated with me, It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure. The Navy must have written that just for me. They were selling adventure, and I was buying. Sold! I craved adventure. I dreamed of faraway exotic destinations with strange food, languages, and customs. I shipped out and didn’t look back again.

While in the Navy, I met the love of my life, who became my wife. She shared my obsession with travel. Indeed, she had been to more places than me. Her father was in the Navy, so her family lived in Spain, Cuba, and Mississippi.

Ok, maybe the last one is not that exotic, but the first two would be really cool places to grow up. She has many fond memories of traveling in Europe with her family and going to school on Guantanamo Bay Naval Base. I wish I had that childhood.

I left the Navy after seven years to pursue a new career in education. One door closed, and another opened. I entered a whole new world very different from the military. Teaching middle school science was maybe not the most glamorous job, but it was the start of a very rewarding and successful career. I jumped up to high school and eventually higher education. Now, here I was, the head honcho on campus.

Despite my success, both personal and professional, I was not feeling very successful spiritually. I do not mean spiritually in the religious sense but in the sense of my inner free spirit, which felt caged.

Little did I know that higher powers were scheming to teach me some badly needed lessons. I was allowing self-doubt, anxiety, complacency, and a sense of duty to prevent me from realizing my dreams. I wanted to live a purposeful life, but I was totally clueless about how to do it.

My days were always busy with the mundane chores of modern existence. I didn’t allow myself the chance to explore the infinite possibilities that were out there.

Life was too simple and easy. Get up, go to work and be the boss, come home and be the husband and father, sleep, and repeat. Never be me.

Today was more of the same. I had much to do, as usual, at work, but I wasn’t getting any of it done. One of the advantages of being the boss is that I don’t have to report to anyone, at least not directly. So, as my mind strayed to faraway places, my fingers strayed to the computer keyboard. I googled education jobs abroad. Be careful what you wish for and of Google searches.

Almost straight away, I found a company that specialized in recruiting teachers for the United Kingdom. Intrigued, I clicked on the site. As I read the recruiter’s sales pitch, I became more and more enthralled. Here was an extraordinary opportunity to do something I had always dreamed of Eureka!

Something resonated inside me about the chance to teach in England. The British Isles have long held a fascination for me. I had a romantic infatuation with the area. Maybe I’ve read J.R.R. Tolkien’s books too many times and have delusions of Middle Earth. Maybe I harbor a deep desire to connect with my ancestral roots. Maybe I’m looking for a simpler pastoral life in the English countryside. Whatever my reasoning, I was ecstatic about the prospect of moving across the pond.

Anxiously, I filled out the online application and attached my resume and cover letter for the recruiter. Admittedly, I had a little trepidation as I went to send my information across the internet. I couldn’t just quit my job, pack up the house, and move my family to another country on a whim. Could I? What about the boys’ schooling? Our home? My wife’s job? Friends? Our medical care? The cars? The list of worries suddenly rolled out before me. I convinced myself that there was no harm in inquiring. After all, I wasn’t committing to anything. Innocently, I hovered the mouse icon over the send button. I’m not sure if I consciously or unconsciously clicked the mouse. Either way, the deed was done. At the speed of flowing electrons, my profile was off. I breathed a sigh, closed the website, and finally got back to my real job.

I decided to keep my little daydream indulgence to myself. I didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary contention with my wife. All I did was send some teacher recruiter in England my information. I probably wouldn’t even hear from them, I thought. I reasoned that my wife did not need to know that her husband was having extramarital fantasies; at least they weren’t about other women. Honestly, I did feel a little unfaithful keeping secrets from my wife. I don’t think that Rupert Holmes had foreign travel in mind when he wrote the Pina Colada song, though.

Two weeks passed. I had almost forgotten and abandoned the whole incident until I got an email reply. Nervously, I opened it. I was torn between being disappointed that it might be a rejection letter and frightened that they might be interested in me after all. To my utter amazement, the first line hit me like a ton of bricks falling on my head, We have a school interested in interviewing you over the phone for a position. What?! Seriously?

This was my first lesson in learning to live a purposeful life: You’ll never know unless you ask. I assumed, wrongfully, that I was stuck in my situation. I would never have known that I had options if I hadn’t replied to that recruiter.

I don’t know if fate lent a hand or if it was just dumb luck, but I would have taken the opportunity either way. That one simple decision to send some information to a stranger on the other side of the world if they had a need for me changed our lives forever. Why hadn’t I done that much earlier?

My advice to everyone is to seek out opportunities all the time, no matter how far-fetched they may seem. All someone can do is say no. For that matter, they can say no a hundred times or more. You only need one yes to change your life.

I think back painfully to all of the missed opportunities in my life. What ifs are hard to deal with later in life, I am finding. Do not get me wrong, I think I turned out ok. I would not change my family and friends for anything in the world, honestly. I can’t help but wonder, however, what alternative timelines could have been if I only had bothered to explore them. Unfortunately, alternate timelines only exist in science fiction; in our world, we are stuck with just one forever.

My favorite poet, Robert Frost, was as literarily gifted as he was wise. I wish I had paid him more heed in school. The road not taken will always be unknown. We can only choose one path. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. I made another road for myself through my modern urban wood. In doing so, I potentially solved my current predicament.

My next dilemma, however, was a bit more complicated. I needed to come clean with my wife. Luckily for me, my wife has grown very tolerant of my crazy ideas. She realizes that I am a perpetual dreamer. Some days, I’m not sure if she finds it charming or annoying. I was really hoping that she would find this time charming. More importantly, I wanted her to say yes.

Chapter 2 – Reckoning

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. – Steve Jobs

I really do love my wife, and I know she really loves me. If it wasn’t for our mutual love, I would probably be in serious trouble. She has weathered many storms in our marriage. Asking her to move across the world might finally capsize our ship.

As I said earlier, we met while I was on active duty in the Navy stationed in Pensacola, Florida. Naval life can be extremely hard on relationships. Fortunately, being a Navy brat, she knew this. So, when the Navy decided to send me to San Diego, she happily followed. We started a new life in a new state without regret. Albeit, we were young and without kids, so moving was much easier.

A year after we were married, I decided that my time in the Navy was at an end. I am a very proud veteran and extremely happy I served. I would do it all over again without hesitation. A twenty-year Navy career, however, was not for me. Like most sailors, we sense when our time to go has come. Good and bad, nautical life was not what I envisioned. I realized I needed to keep my ship in port and be home for my family. The transition from sailor back to civilian was not smooth sailing, though.

I started a new career as a teacher. I left active duty in June and entered the classroom in August of the same year. I had just over two months to acclimate to a new normal.

The last time I was a civilian, I couldn’t even legally drink. I had never had a true career outside the military before. The rules of the game were all different.

I needed to quickly learn a new culture with a different language and strange customs. I felt bombarded by questions and decisions which I didn’t have the answers for. Medical insurance? What is that?! PPO versus HMO? Why can’t I just go to the doctor and get examined? I need to put money in a 401K? Huh? Union dues! What is a union? You mean I don’t need to fill out a form to do this? How do I take leave? I no longer have to salute and stand at attention when my boss walks in? Cool! Every day for a long while, I learned something new.

The barrage of new ways of doing practically everything took its toll. I became irritable and detached, which led to depression. This, in turn, led me to having regrets about my decision to leave the Navy. I remember wanting desperately to go back during a particularly low period. Patiently, my wife helped me through this dark time. I emerged stronger and happier into the light of a new life, but I know it was difficult for her, too.

We moved again when we decided to have children. Our jobs were good, but the location was not. San Bernardino is not exactly the quintessential small-town America where we wanted to raise our boys. Even though we were settled in southern California, we knew that we wanted to live in a different environment to raise our family. Cali was not how I grew up. I selfishly wanted our boys to have a similar childhood to mine so I could, hopefully, relate to them better. To have that, we needed to move north, way north.

My darling wife, from the warm climates of the world, obliged me, and we moved to where it gets cold. We found our little small-town paradise in western Washington. At 47 degrees north latitude, Port Ludlow is just over halfway from the equator to the North Pole. We fell in love with it immediately. The town’s tagline is A village in the woods by the bay. That says it all.

There was one small problem with our newly discovered Mayberry, jobs were difficult there. Historically, the Olympic Peninsula has been a logging and fishing industry area with support services sprinkled in. Unfortunately, logging has scaled way back in recent years, and fishing is almost dead. The communities on the peninsula have gone through difficult economic times. Some have adjusted, some are still figuring out what to do.

To worsen things for us, educators do not make much in Washington, and many schools in our area are facing declining enrollment. We really love the area but needed to find a way to make it financially work for us. So, that led me to my current position doing the long and hectic commute to Bellevue, where I could make the big bucks that would keep my family settled, such is the burden of being a responsible husband and father.

For three years, I kept up the pretense of being happy with the situation. So, now I am back full circle to how I got to my self-inflicted melancholy state. The logical part of my brain knew I had a great life, but the emotional part knew this wasn’t for me. I really did feel torn. The indecisiveness only amplified the stress inside me.

The one person who I always turned to in difficult situations like this, is my best friend, who happens also to be my wife. The problem, however, was she was the one I was most nervous about talking to about my feelings. After all, how could I ask her to leave our home that had taken us a long time to find through more than a few trials and tribulations? I knew that it was not going to be an easy conversation, but I obviously needed her to buy in if my plan was to be at all possible.

She loved Port Ludlow just as much as me. One difference between our situations, however, was that she worked from home. She didn’t do the hour-and-a-half commute in traffic via motorcycle and a ferry ride across Puget Sound throughout the year. I went many days during the winter months without seeing our house in the daylight; I’d leave in the dark and come home in the dark. I also gave up my coveted summer vacation when I moved into administration. So, she got to enjoy much more of our home than I did.

Still, she sacrificed for the family by moving north in the first place. She enjoyed teaching online, gardening in the yard, decorating the house, and, most importantly, being there for our boys while I was at work. How could I ask her to leave? We had settled into a comfortable routine. We were living the American dream. Sadly, it was not my dream though.

I finally mustered the courage to talk to her about the prospects of taking a job in England. As we sat on the couch drinking some wine one evening, I told her about the overseas recruiter and the interview with a school in England. She listened patiently until I finished my best sales pitch. I felt I did a pretty good job, too. I should be a television pitch man I thought. For this low, low cost, you’ll get an exciting all-inclusive trip to Europe! Wait, that’s not all! With this move, you’ll also get a new set of luggage! If you say yes in the next five minutes, you’ll receive a set of travel accessories, too!

I tried to read her face as I relayed my bold plan to her, but she stayed steadfast and did not betray any evidence of what she was thinking. Which way would this go, I anxiously wondered. She took a deep breath, and I got my answer. Calmly and thoughtfully, she said, No.

Before I could counter-argue, she carefully explained why we could not make such a move at that time. Her reasoning was sound and accurate. The boys were in school with friends and Scouts. We had a house to pay for and keep up. She had a good job. We had established roots. If I was unhappy in my job, the simpler solution was to find another one within commuting distance, she argued. England definitely was not commutable.

My wife and I have been together a while. I know when she has made up her mind and how determined she can be. I also know that she loves me very much and wants to make me happy, within reason. I want her to be happy, too. So, we were now locked in a battle of wills. Each of us, deep down, wants to support and help the other while keeping our own sanity at the same time.

The problem for us is that we look at issues from completely different angles. Mishele is very logical and practical. I, on the other hand, tend to be over-emotional and impractical. She is the doer, and I am the dreamer. Together, we make a potent duo who, most times, complement each other extremely well. Sometimes, we can frustrate the hell out of each other too. This was shaping up to be the later time.

Clearly, we were in opposite camps on this issue. I was not interested in hearing why we couldn’t make this plan work; I wanted to talk about how we could make it work. She was approaching it from a strictly pragmatic view of how unfeasible the plan was. To hear her talk, moving to another continent in six months was a big deal. I was thinking we could pack a few clothes, maybe take some toys for the boys, and ship the dog in a crate. Somehow, we needed to see each other’s viewpoint and reach a solution. At least for that night, we were at a stalemate.

The next morning dawned without any solution miraculously appearing. We agreed to disagree and that there was no harm in just doing the interview. After all, I might not even get the job, so getting into a debate now was pointless. Besides, we were both very busy, and the daydream of yesterday seemed to vanish with the hustle and bustle of the present.

The two weeks before the interview passed quickly. I almost missed it, actually. I had become so involved in life that I realized it just in time to rush home and settle in. My mind started to race with all the possible questions that the school interview panel could ask me. This was not my first interview for a teaching position, but I was unsure of the British take on things. I wondered what they would want to know. Should I tell them that I was having a mid-life crisis and was desperately seeking an escape from reality? Probably not, I guessed.

I looked at my watch, and it read two minutes until the school was to call. I took a deep breath and checked my appearance. I felt a little foolish as I was running my fingers through my hair because I realized that they wouldn’t be able to see me. Nervously, I glanced back at my watch. It was now two minutes after zero hour. I anxiously got up from the dining room table and paced around the kitchen. I looked again at my watch, and it read six minutes after the call time. It was getting very late. Had they forgotten? Did they figure out I was just a perpetual unrealistic dreamer?

More time passed. I was getting a little impatient when the phone finally rang. My heart raced as I looked at the international phone number on the screen. I waited for the obligatory second ring and then answered. A very polite woman with a thick English accent asked for me. I responded that this was Curtis Smith. I almost told her to wait and I would go fetch him, but thought better of it. The woman identified herself as the Vice-Head of the school and apologized profusely for being late. Apparently, they had gotten to school early just for my interview. Then it dawned on me that the time difference was nine hours ahead, so 7:00 am London time.

The interview panel asked fairly standard questions, to which I gave fairly acceptable answers. They wanted to know typical teacher things, like how do I engage all students, what was my experience in the classroom, how do I develop lessons, etc. The question of why do I want to move to England, however, caused me to pause. I knew that they would ask this, but I really hadn’t formulated a decent answer. I strongly believe that honesty is the best policy, so I told the truth; I was looking for an adventure.

The call concluded after only 30 minutes. We both thanked each other and went back to our own time zones. Immediately, my wife came out of the bedroom and asked how it went. I honestly had no idea. Did my American sense of humor collide with their British formality? I could only wait and see.

Two days passed, and I received another international call. It was from the Vice-Head again. To my utter astonishment, she congratulated me on a job well done and offered me a position with the school. As the English say, I was over the moon thrilled! I enthusiastically thanked her and assured her, prematurely, that I would accept.

My day of reckoning was here. I had successfully turned a daydream into a reality. Unbelievably, I had secured a job in England. The rest were just details, at least in my simple-mindedness. The only obstacle now was to convince my reluctant wife to move.

This was my second lesson in living a purposeful life. Change is difficult. Some change is easier than others, but all change causes some degree of stress.

Allowing the stress, fears, and doubts to govern you will prevent you from living your daydream. If I had never persevered through the changes in my life, I would not have ever left home. Remember, life is a journey, not a destination, so be prepared to move on when the time comes.

My transition from civilian to sailor was hard. Luckily, the U.S. Navy has a well-established indoctrination program to help you adjust. Transitioning back to civilian life was even harder. Luckily, again, I had someone to help me. Transitioning to another country probably would be the toughest change so far in our lives.

I do not think that I could manage such changes by myself. Having someone to help you is a crucial key to successfully managing transition periods in our lives. Family and friends can help you, so don’t be ashamed to lean on them when you are stumbling. After all, misery loves company.

Chapter 3 – Hard Decisions

We are not living in a world where all roads are radii of a circle and where all, if followed long enough, will therefore draw gradually nearer and finally meet at the center: rather in a world where every road, after a few miles, forks into two, and each of those into two again, and at each fork, you must make a decision. – C. S. Lewis.

Ok, now came the tough decision, to stay or go. My wife and I needed to have a very serious conversation about which road in the woods we would take. The one more traveled kept us on the familiar, well-worn road of home, which was safe and predictable. The one less traveled took us on a new road to a faraway country, which was strange and unfamiliar. Which one should we take?

My wife and I are both science teachers so we tend to be pretty analytical about most things, albeit we sometimes may go overboard analyzing decisions. When we were deciding if and where to move, we even prepared detailed spreadsheets with various categories to rank different merits and drawbacks of possible places to live. We rationalized that if we assigned numerical values to the attributes that were important to us of different candidate cities, like walkability, affordability, crime, and things to do, we could avoid subjectivity and make a completely objective decision, which would be the most proper course of action. It was purely logical.

Major life decisions are not purely logical, we learned, however. I look back at pivotal moments in my life that changed me for all time and realize that they were primarily emotionally driven. I made decisions based almost solely on my heart’s desire, not on my brain’s reasoning. I may have tried to rationalize them post-decision after I made up my mind, but the decisions were really made beforehand. All I really did was get my heart and brain in sync. So far, so good.

Joining the Navy was emotional. Yes, serving my country was honorable and patriotic, but honor and patriotism are deep-rooted emotions. From a practical consideration, I benefitted financially from my service through money for college, a loan for our house, a steady paycheck, and marketable training.

To be honest, the real reason I joined was for the adventure, to live a life less ordinary. I jumped aboard without too much thought and didn’t worry about the details. I made it work.

Getting married was definitely emotional. To be honest, I also made a lousy bachelor. I don’t drink, I’m painfully shy, I don’t watch sports, and I’m pretty much a geek. My idea of a fun night is a batch of warm chocolate cookies and Star Trek re-runs. The fact that I found a cute, successful redhead to fall for me was amazing. I was completely in love and didn’t care about practicality when I proposed. Amazingly, she said yes and the rest has been history. We have made it work.

Having kids is in no way logical or practical. Trust me on that if you’re not a parent. Yet, we did it twice. I would not change being a father for anything, despite the challenges, frustrations, and worries. The emotional reward has been enormous in ways that I don’t think I could ever truly explain to anyone who has not been a proud father. We have had our ups and downs, but through it all, we have stayed together. Our family has made it work.

Time and time again, my wife and I have made emotionally based decisions that have turned out fine. The decisions themselves were not really the issues. Following through with them by working through difficulties and problem-solving once we chose a path was the key to success. As Christian educator Charles Swindoll said, Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it. Looking back with regrets every time a rough patch hits, which they have a habit of doing, will trip you up. We learned to lean on each other and capitalize on each other’s strengths. We just simply persevered.

Now, my heart was yelling at me to take the job in England while my brain was trying to calm me down. I was ready to make the leap, but I knew my loving wife did not have the same emotional motivation to take the jump across the ocean as I did. I desperately needed her to feel my passion for going, and she needed me to see her rationale for staying. So, we were at an impasse. Since the school needed a decision, and I said I would take the job, my wife and I needed to break our deadlock soon.

We scheduled a time when the boys were asleep, and the house was quiet to talk it through. A little wine always helps ease conversation, so we opened another bottle. We each gave the other time to explain their thoughts and reasoning while the other sipped their wine. She went first as I sipped. I patiently listened to my wife as she laid out her argument. As expected, her rationale was spot-on and persuasive. I, however, was not to be persuaded.

My turn came, she drank. My argument was built on the adventure of it all. I tend to get animated and excited when I talk about things that I am passionate about, sort of like an over-caffeinated marionette puppet. That night, I was really trying to convey how this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I excitedly rambled on about the thrill of going, the romance of traveling Europe, the amazing learning opportunities, the unique cultural experiences, the incredible enrichment of our boys, and more. She drank more. I tried to read my wife’s face, but I wasn’t sure if she was softening or the wine was working. Slowly, I could see by the brightening twinkle in her eyes that the adventurous side of her was awakening as I talked. There was hope!

I knew I had won her over when she started to list all of the things we needed to do to get ready. Her mind had switched from coming up with reasons why we could not go to coming up with answers of how we could go. Once she switched over, I knew we were going. My wife is an amazing strategic planner and doer who can accomplish more in a single day than most people can in a week. Her superpower is organization. With her on board, we were already halfway to Europe!

This was my third lesson in living a purposeful life. Go after your dreams. I know that sounds very cliché like, but it’s true. Life is too short, so live it while you can. One of many quotes that have inspired me comes from American author and professor John A. Shedd, A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. Set sail!

If I had always made rational, logical, and practical decisions my entire life, I would never have had all of these incredible experiences. True, I would not be as stressed, and we would have less tension in the marriage at times, too. However, one stress would have just been replaced by another, and something else would have caused tension eventually. Life happens, and we would have dealt with things as they came. Playing life safely doesn’t ensure that nothing bad or unexpected will ever happen.

Since no one has a crystal ball to see into the future, no one knows what life has in store for them. Some people tend to retreat in the face of the unknown. You can stay at home where you have an illusion of safety or venture out into the world and experience it. The choice is yours. Also, a little wine helps make the decision easier.

Chapter 4 – Preparations

Before anything else, preparation is the key to success. - Alexander Graham Bell

Now that the big decision was made, we needed to start preparing. There were a hundred things that needed to be done in order to pull off this epic move to England. Despite the daunting task ahead of us, we were energized to set the grand plan into motion. I even felt much more alive and less depressed. We were actually going to do this!

Straight away, my wife, Wonder Woman, used her superpowers to plan our move. She made a lengthy to-do list. She even categorized the items by family members responsible for completing them. To my utter amazement, I was on the list! I naively thought that, being the idea man, I already did my part. Not a chance, I wasn’t getting out of my fair share of the work. I was merely her sidekick. I like the sobriquet Dreamer Boy to her Wonder Woman personally.

First up on my list was the dog. Our dog, Albie, can only be technically referred to as a member of the canine species. He is 40 pounds of furry, affectionate Wheaten Terrier. Mish lovingly refers to him as our four-legged third son. Accordingly, he has been given the full privileges and rights as his adopted human family members. Whether he appreciates them has been a matter of debate. What was not in doubt was that he was going with us.

I had absolutely no idea of how to get a spoiled pooch into the United Kingdom or if it was even possible. Mish made it clear that Albie was part of the deal; therefore, I had to make it happen. So, I researched bringing a dog into the U.K. What I found out was that the British like to make things difficult by being as thorough as possible and then adding some extra superfluous steps for good measure.

Here is the whole ridiculous process in ten short steps:

Step 1: Have your dog vaccinated for rabies within six months,