Here, There & Elsewhere. Travel papers

As we prepare for the journey back to the US, the subject of returning Rocky to the country of his origin looms large. I don’t know from where I got the nerve to smuggle him into India, but it’s certainly drained out of me now.

“Just look up the US Embassy website,” suggests Bins. “What should I look for?” I ask. “No idea,” he says, shrugging. “Department of animal travel papers, maybe?” “Don’t be ridiculous!” I say, but when I go to the website, to my amazement, I find ‘Travel Documents, Non-human’. There’s a number to call. I succeed at the first try and get a list of options: “For non-human visas, press one. For non-human repatriation, press two...” etcetera. The last option is “lost documents and other queries, press nine.” So I press nine.

Once again, I am amazed that the call connects so quickly. Someone who sounds a lot like a well-trained African Grey Parrot answers the call. “Department of non-human travel documents,” she says. “Polly speaking. What may I help you with?” I swallow my incredulity and say, “Uh ... hello Polly. Thank you for taking my call. It’s about lost documents ...”

“Don’t worry, honey,” said Ms Polly, interrupting me. “Happens all the time. What species are we referring to? Raccoon? Hmm. That’s a new one. But — fine. Bring him in.” She tells me how to get to the non-human department and gives me an appointment. The next day, we go to the US Embassy in Chanakyapuri.

I still cannot believe that any of this is actually happening. But sure enough, right by the main gate, where a couple of hundred human travellers are waiting with their plastic folders clutched to their chests, there’s a little booth with a smart-looking greyhound in a pink uniform behind the counter. She doesn’t say a word to me but sniffs Rocky very thoroughly. Then signalling with her left ear she points to the blank white wall of the fortress-like embassy. A door has opened in the wall.

We go through. The décor is all tile and stainless steel. “It’s like a hospital,” says Rocky, sounding very subdued. But Ms Polly, who turns out to be a giant hyacinth macaw perched behind a computer screen, is extremely friendly. “Don’t you worry, dearie,” she says to him. “It’s fully automated these days.” Paw print, retinal scan, photograph and a form to fill up with addresses and phone numbers. I stand guarantee for the duration of his stay in India and provide my home address. “All done,” says the macaw. “We’ll post the new passport to you in a week.”

“I’m very impressed!” I say to her, as Rocky and I prepare to leave. “It’s a much simpler process than for humans.” Ms Polly raises her crest in surprise. “Yes, of course,” she says. “We’re animals! Free citizens of the UNW.” “What’s that?” I ask. “United Natural World,” she says, with a cackle and a smile.

Manjula Padmanabhan , author and artist, writes of her life in the fictional town of Elsewhere, US, in this weekly column

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