A Conversation with Kira. Part 2: The Distance Between Us…
Leaving Mexico for Canada was supposed to be a fresh start, but I left a piece of my soul behind on those Mexican tiles. Because of logistics and timing, Kira couldn’t come with me immediately. She stayed with my mother, and while I was navigating a new country, they were navigating a heartbreaking silence at home.
Kira didn't understand "visas" or "flight dates." All she knew was that I was gone. For the first weeks, she refused to eat. My mom, desperate to keep her healthy and strong for the journey ahead, felt the weight of that responsibility every day. She wasn’t just feeding a dog; she was protecting my heart.
Eventually, through pure love and persistence, my mom found a way. She turned mealtime into a celebration to combat Kira's sadness.
The routine was simple: Kira would finally finish her bowl, and my mom would walk over, look at the empty dish, and break into a round of applause. She would cheer, "Bravo, Kira!, Plato limpio!"
Kira’s reaction was pure, wagging excitement. She realized that by eating, she was making her "human" happy. That empty bowl became a symbol of success and a reason for a party. To this day, here in Canada, the ritual remains. Even after the last bite is gone, Kira will stand over her bowl, looking back at us with wagging excitement. She refuses to leave the spot until we approach the plate for the official ceremony. Only once we give her the round of applause and the final '¡Plato limpio!' does she consider her mission accomplished. She truly won’t have it any other way.
It was these little stories from my mom that kept me going until I could see her again. When I finally went back to Mexico for my first visit, the reunion was everything I’d dreamed of.
2018: A hug that felt like home. This was the moment I realized that no matter how long it took, I was bringing this girl to Canada with me.
But as joyful as that moment was, leaving her a second time was devastating. The uncertainty was the hardest part. I left Mexico again not knowing exactly when, or how, I would finally be able to bring her home. It turned into two long years of working, saving, and searching for a life that had enough room for a dog from the Yucatán.
After two years of hustle, I finally made the call. I told my mom: "I’m ready. Let’s bring her home." Then, the "Adventure of Logistics" began. We spent weeks researching exactly what Canada required:
The "Plastic Spaceship": We learned that international travel requires an IATA-compliant kennel. It had to have metal bolts, a metal door, and enough space for Kira to turn around comfortably.
The Medical Passport: We had to coordinate the Rabies certificates and a final Veterinary Health Certificate within a strict 10-day window before the flight.
The Ticket: I’ll never forget clicking "purchase" on that $450 CAD one-way ticket. It was the most expensive, yet most rewarding, ticket I’ve ever bought.
Kira’s "Mission: Canada" Travel Checklist
If you are planning to bring a rescue dog from Mexico to Canada, here are the essentials we learned:
IATA-Approved Kennel: Must have metal hardware (no plastic clips) and be sized so the dog can stand and turn.
Rabies Vaccination Certificate: Must be in English or French with the vaccine trade name and serial number.
10-Day Health Certificate: A licensed vet must sign this within 10 days of your flight.
Airline Pet Booking: Always call to confirm "space in hold" before booking your own human ticket.
A Piece of Home: Place a t-shirt that smells like you inside the kennel to comfort them during the flight.
In Part 3, I’ll share the moment Kira landed in the snow and how we turned a "street dog" into a "Canadian queen."
Do you have questions about the flight process? Leave a comment below and I’ll share what I learned!
I’d love to hear from you! Does your pet have a specific "ritual" or a quirky habit they brought from their past? Or maybe you’re currently navigating a long-distance separation from your pup? Drop a comment below, I read every single one!
