First Impressions

Mouse threw up while in line at American immigration. Immigration paged the Center for Disease Control who took Mouse's temperature (101.9F), recorded our contact details, and called for a wheelchair. Immigration processed our visas as quickly as they could and remained polite and friendly throughout. All the while, Emma the Brave sat on the floor about 20 feet away, determined not to catch her sister's illness. By the time we'd collected our luggage and dog, Mouse was chatty and asking for someone to take her picture in her first wheelchair. Security rules dictated we couldn't. Ah, well.  Can't have everything.