Ukrainians face hurdle at US border: No dogs
Natasha Hrytsenko, a lifelong resident of Ukraine, had always dreamed of having a fluffy white dog. When she started working, Hrytsenko, now 30, used her first two paychecks to buy a purebred mini Maltese puppy. She brought Eddie home to the Kyiv apartment that she shared with her older sister.
Eight years later, when war engulfed their country and they decided to flee, Hrytsenko recalls telling her sister, “I can leave behind my best clothes, my favorite bags and even my cellphone. But I will never leave Eddie behind.”
The pair made their way to Poland, then Germany, then Portugal, bound eventually for the United States, where they had friends in Virginia. The tiny dog journeyed with them, tucked under their arms or plopped on their laps.
The sisters made it as far as Tijuana, the Mexican city on California’s southern border, before they heard the news that stopped them short: Dogs from Ukraine were in most cases not being allowed into the United States. A number of people had already had to leave their pets in Mexico under federal health regulations.
“I would rather go back to Europe,” Hrytsenko told her sister.
Among the thousands of Ukrainians who have been lining up at the southern border since the Russian invasion, the past few weeks have been marked by a painful progression of loss: homes, loved ones, jobs, the quiet comfort of familiar neighborhoods. For those who had managed to carry a beloved pet along on their journey to an uncertain future, the barrier at the border has proved devastating.
“He is everything to us,” Hrytsenko’s sister, Ira, 31, said of the dog.
“The number of dogs here
has been growing day by day,” said Victoria Pindrik, a volunteer with the Save Ukraine Relief Fund, which has been working with Ukrainian refugees who are attempting to enter the United States. “Dogs have been sent back to us.”
The federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention prohibits except on an “extremely limited basis” dogs from entering the United States if they have been in any one of roughly 50 countries, including Ukraine, that it classifies as “high risk” for rabies.
At the crowded border crossing in Tijuana, where a dedicated pedestrian lane has been opened to speedily process Ukrainian refugees, Customs and Border Protection agents initially allowed a number of pets into the country, volunteers working at the border said.
But more recently, pets from Ukraine have not been allowed.
The Hrytsenko sisters had
taken steps as soon as they left Ukraine to make sure their dog would be prepared for international travel.
The sisters boarded a flight from Lisbon to Mexico without a problem, their suitcases stuffed with cans of Newman’s Own organic chicken dog food. Eddie came along in a small portable carrier.
After the sisters landed in Cancun this month, an animal inspector at the airport reviewed their paperwork and examined Eddie from head to toe. He handed over an official document with a stamp attesting to the dog’s good health. The sisters flew to Tijuana on April 10.
There, they joined hundreds of Ukrainians waiting their turn to cross the border. In no time, Eddie was bounding gleefully across the mats that lined a large gym that had been transformed into a massive dormitory for refugees.
“We felt confident, trusting
everything was fine,” Ira recalled. “Then, all of a sudden, we heard you can’t cross with your dog.”
After their trip of more than 6,000 miles, across four international borders, this barrier seemed the most formidable. They considered reversing their steps.
Pindrik said the process for gaining legal access to the United States under procedures, which include a permit and possible quarantine, could take weeks.
“For many of these families that have been through trauma, it is important to keep their family together, including their pets that they spent so much energy, money and care to bring with them,” she said. “We understand the requirements the U.S. has in place and reasons for them, but it is impossible for the refugees to satisfy them.”
The CDC said it had issued a number of permits for people arriving from Ukraine with their pets.
“We are working with NGOs in Mexico and the U.S. along the border to ensure persons arriving from Ukraine with their dogs meet entry requirements before entering the U.S. or that they have a safe place to quarantine dogs if they arrive and do not meet CDC entry requirements,” the agency said.
For the sisters, it seemed an impossible barrier. Then they learned there was a temporary solution: Mexico is not on the CDC rabies list, and Americans bringing dogs from that country are unlikely to face scrutiny at the U.S. border. In fact, Americans arriving with dogs from a low-risk or rabies-free country are not even required to present a rabies vaccination certificate or special permit.
Several days ago, American animal lovers began ferrying dogs belonging to Ukrainians across the border themselves. Several dozen Ukrainian pets,
mainly dogs but also cats, have already made their way to California with American help. The Hrytsenko sisters began looking for someone who would agree to take Eddie.
On Tuesday evening, they were informed that No. 3748, their designated number in line, should join a group at the border checkpoint, where the sisters would be escorted into California for processing by U.S. authorities.
On Wednesday, about 10 a.m., they placed Eddie in his white-and-gray crate near the gym, where they were told he would be picked up.
The dog began gnawing on the slits and the door of the crate, recalled Natasha, who said that she was overcome with guilt. Both sisters began crying.
“You can’t explain to a dog that everything is going to be OK,” Natasha said.
After crossing into the United States, the pair joined a fellow Kyiv native, Liuba Pavlenko, a fellow dog owner with whom the sisters had bonded in Tijuana. Pavlenko and her two children were waiting at a hotel in San Ysidro, near
San Diego, for their Chihuahua, Maya, to be brought from Mexico.
“I’m sorry that Maya and Eddie had to be refugees and endure this journey,” Ira said when they met at the hotel.
The families grew anxious as the day wore on.
“I’m getting impatient,” Natasha said. It was after 3 p.m., more than five hours since they had left Eddie in the crate.
Then their phone rang with a live video from the border, showing Eddie being carried toward the port of entry into the United States.
About 45 minutes later, both dogs were reunited with their owners, who smothered them with hugs and kisses.
Only then were they ready for the final leg of their journey — to Virginia, where their friends awaited.