The Great Hungarian Cat Saga

So we’re on the plane from Brussels to Newark, and our American-just-married-to-a-beautiful-Hungarian neighbor’s cat carrier is too big to fit under the airplane seat. (He moved next to us, leaving his bride with his mom and grandmother, because someone was in his seat.)  

The captain of the plane wants to leave ASAP. 

The Hungarian bride tires of her new in-laws and trades seats with the groom, so now the cat and the American groom move to the back of the plane, and the beautiful Hungarian bride takes up residence next to us. But the cat still has no place to rest.

By this time, at least six flight attendants and two ground crew safety attendants are trying to accommodate the cat. People all over the plane are allergic to cats. There are no empty seats. The cat can’t sit in a bulkhead seat. And periodically a new airline employee joins the fray. 

 Still, the captain wants to leave.

 

Still, he cannot. Because of the cat. 

Yet the airline approved the cat - with its carrier - on this flight, and it flew from Hungary to Belgium already. Flight attendant: “But this plane is going to the US, and the US has different safety regulations” and “Different planes have different dimensions.” 

And the Hungarian cat, who’s taken some sort of kitty Valium, is not responding as expected, i.e. he’s not sleeping, so he’s awake and crying ... extremely loudly ... somewhere else on the plane away from the allergic people sitting near us. 

So we’re now 16 minutes late and still stuck at the gate while the ridiculous number of airline employees continue to try to make this work: Is there an empty seat? (No.) Can it sit in a bulkhead? (No.) Does this seat offer more room? (No.) 

 ... oh wait ... 

Now the extremely gracious party of four offers to deplane and try again tomorrow with a soft-sided cat carrier. The airline employees at first decline, insisting they’ll find a solution. 

The Hungarian bride looks over at us: “All The Drama!” 

But no, the airline cannot find a solution: the American groom and his Hungarian bride, plus their two extras, are deplaning because the Hungarian cat can’t go to the US on this plane because his carrier won’t safely fit anywhere on the plane. The beautiful Hungarian bride looks mortified by all the drama. Mor-ti-fied! 

And NOW a gloved someone is tearing the seat next to us apart for ... ummm ... we don’t know ... looking for something. Not removing cat dander for allergies. Finding nothing, he moves back to the other seats occupied by the party. And he left all the trash from the seat back pocket on the seat. (Gross!) 

(...sunglasses...a family member forgot the sunglasses...) 

So we’re up to 29 minutes late, and now they have to offload the family’s luggage, which may be considerable because the groom has been living in Hungary for two years, and they are moving to the States for school. Flight attendant: “We’ve had a ... situation ... and the family decided to deplane. We’ll be a few more minutes.” 

And 39 minutes late, the plane door is closed. 

(Did I mention that there are no USB ports on this plane?!) 

(Back to the story:) 

 The good news is that we currently have an empty seat next to us. The Hungarian cat will not have to spend the next 8 hours under a seat. And I had some crumbly leftover cookies to tide us over until our (ahem) delicious airplane meal is served. 

 The traffic behind us has cleared, and we are - exactly 73 minutes late - pushing away from the gate. (...and now we’ve been in the same spot on the tarmac for 17 minutes...) 

 So now, 102 minutes after our scheduled departure time, the flight attendants are doing a head count ... not the number of seats minus the empties, but the exact number of people, including babies, on the flight. Because we need to know the weight of the plane?? Mmmkay. 

Oh wait! Can it be? ... no ... okay, 111 minutes later, and we’re ready. Maybe. 

145 minutes after our scheduled departure, and we’re at least rolling down the tarmac. Airborne in 3...2...1... or so ... more minutes ...  The cabin crew immediately offers beverage and meal service. 

Flight attendant to guy in front of us: “Are you okay?” 

Guy: “Yes, just allergies.” 

 Flight attendant: “Are you allergic to cats?”

 ************************ 

 

And so ends the Great Hungarian Cat Saga. Or at least our chapter of it. I hope the kitty and his beautiful family eventually made it stateside together, with as little kitty Valium as possible. 

 Meow. Meow. Meow. 

 ... July 11, 2018 ...