Don't be responsible for any other living thing. (That's actually a federal regulation for Cracked columnists.) We brought two cats to the U.K., and it would have been less hassle to invade part of the coast and declare it a sovereign feline nation. It would have been less expensive to irradiate them and ship them as nuclear research materials. Their tickets cost more than ours. I was seriously tempted to shave them and claim that Make A Wish was sending two horrifyingly sick infants to see Big Ben.
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He's always wanted to meat Danger Mouse.
When you arrive at cargo shipping, unless your pet is a Time Lord, you'll be told its cage is not big enough. And even if you do turn up with a TARDIS, they'll tell you to go back and get one from a more recent series with a bigger control room. It doesn't matter if your pet has a guest room and hot tub in there. Snoopy's kennel wouldn't be big enough for these guys.
The only upside is that while waiting in the Animal Reception Center on the other end, you'll see a dog reunited with its owners. This is the happiest moment on Earth. Sitting in this room would turn Nietzsche into Dr. Seuss. The dog explodes with joy as it tries to be happy in every direction at once, projecting a zone of sheer grin for several meters. Enjoy this as much as possible, because your cats know that you're the prick who stuck them in boxes and cast them into a vibrating hell for half of a day.
"Your bed? Pissed on. Your clothes? Pissed on. Hell, I'm even gonna piss on the folks who owe you money."
On short trips, the plane takes you to a destination. On long trips, the plane is the destination. It's the promised land, the place you go when you've completed all your trials and tribulations on Earth, and now it's in someone else's hands as you take comfort in the heavens. Long-distance flights are an aerodynamic afterlife.
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They can't play harps, but they do serve whiskey, which is way better.
It's a glorious reward and recuperation break -- filled with comfort and promises of happiness - so it's a pity you'll instantly fall into unaware oblivion. A disturbing but entirely physical turn for our afterlife analogy.
However early you think you've started preparing to move, start earlier. It's far too easy to sit back and chill, because you've organized the sale of the TV. TVs are self-moving! Leave the door open on evening and bang! - no TV. If you even have anything to sit on you are way behind on moving preparation. If I had a time machine, I'd go back and crash it into my old flat so that I had less stuff to deal with.
This is why I'm going to turn my new home into a fortress, as soon as I find one. Because I'm refusing to move again until I become rich enough to either:
A) Hire someone to deal with moving,
B) Set fire to my old home, strolling towards a new country without looking back as it explodes, or
C) Hire someone to set fire to my old home the very second they see me moving toward an airport.
For more moving advice, check out 6 Reasons Your Plans to Move Abroad Might Not Work Out and 5 Reasons Moving Sucks (And Costs) More Than You Expect.
Luke also spent a week Trying To Repair Non-alcoholic Beer, explains why Die Hard Is Really A Romantic Movie, and looks at broken batarangs and self-destructing discs in The 4 Worst Video Game Collector's Editions..