Dealing with 6500 square feet of crap, 4 dogs, 10 cats, and 40 sheep before our move to Spain

My previous article about our visa process was somewhat technical. This article is more personal. It’s about letting go.

Everyone who moves has to deal with what to do with their possessions. Move everything? Pare down? Move almost nothing and start fresh? Ah, if only it’d been so easy for us.

We owned a 100 acre ranch. It had a house, of course, but it also had a full 2500 square foot building (a former church sanctuary), and another 1500 square feet of covered storage. In addition, we had a tractor, riding mower, and enough PVC, rebar, fencing, etc. to open a store. Then there was the 27' travel trailer, Dodge “dually” pickup, two cars, multiple motorcycles, unfinished homebuilt airplane, paddleboat, and, oh yes… single-engine, Piper airplane (in a hanger at the regional airport). Eric had a 31' gooseneck trailer full of specialized commercial equipment from a former business. And animals: 40 sheep, 10 cats, and 4 dogs.

The selection game—aka fun with sticky notes

The thought of selling almost everything before our September move to Spain was overwhelming before I did one of the most stupid things I’ve ever done… have major foot surgery, leaving me unable to put any weight on my left foot for 6+ weeks.

Regardless, in early May, just days after we returned from our house-hunting trip in Spain, we put our ranch on the market and our noses to the grindstone.

First task, deciding what to keep and what to sell. We put sticky notes on personal items we wanted to keep, re-evaluating and moving notes around every few days.

Before my surgery, I diligently listed some of the collectible items on eBay, then boxed them and shipped them to the buyers. In the best of times, it was going to take forever, and it became impossible after my surgery. There had to be a better way.

Eric sold my car (I couldn’t drive anyway), the tractor, all but one motorcycle, the riding mower, airplane kit, whole airplane, commercial trailer, and the dually. (We kept his car until the very end, then sold it at a loss to a used car dealer. Sometimes, expediency wins out over economics.)

The several dozen sticky notes peppered around the house ended up highlighting the massive quantity of items needing dispersal. We decided to hire The Leftovers, an estate sale company. This turned out to be the best decision of the move process, and I highly recommend it to anyone making a large move, especially one to another country. Even the Leftovers’ owners were overwhelmed when they showed up to evaluate and schedule an inventory. Instead of spending two days preparing, they asked for a week. We happily told them to take whatever time they needed.

The ranch sold faster than expected, so we had to negotiate a rent-back agreement to prevent us having to move twice. We also needed time to deal with all of the animals, and we had to retain possession long enough for the Leftovers’ folks to hold the actual sale.

Dealing with the animals

It took several weeks, but we luckily found a man who wanted all forty sheep. He came towing a huge trailer. Eric helped load the herd and we waved them all goodbye.

There was no question that the dogs were going with us. We ordered four of the largest transport kennels available. They filled the living room. We arranged for Air Animal Pet Transporters to ensure our pup’s safe relocation.

The toughest decision was about the cats. We could only take one each on the flight, because they had to ride in the cabin with us (Lufthansa didn’t allow cats in cargo that time of year). By then, we knew we’d be making two trips, one to close on our home in Spain and one to come back to collect our visas, so we could ultimately end up with four cats in Spain.

That still left six cats. Some of the cats were feral “barn cats”. We found new barn-style homes for them. As long as they got supplemental food and water, they’d be happy. The cats who were a bit tame, but showed little interest in us, went to homes with friends who accepted them as they were.

We picked the two who would initially go with us (shy Liona and three-legged Timmy, who had lost a front leg to a rattlesnake). Friends agreed to foster the two we’d come back for. (When we returned, however, both fosters begged to keep the cat in their care. The cats seemed happy and adjusted, so we reluctantly agreed.)

Letting go is hard for a “keeper”

The most emotional part for me was letting go of keepsakes, some of which I’d had since childhood. Here’s my advice for anyone having the same difficulty: take pictures.

I spent a day going through boxes of treasures, souvenirs, school projects, art, baby shoes, etc. I took pictures of everything, chose half a dozen items to keep, then closed all the boxes and didn’t open them again. I never asked, and don’t want to know, what the estate sale people did with them. When I get nostalgic, I look at the pictures.

The movers arrived and packed all the items marked with sticky notes. Even eliminating more than 80% of our possessions, we still filled two-thirds of a 40' cargo container. (There’s a reason I haven’t included a link to our movers, even though I’ve linked to everyone else. They were awful. Be sure you use a company familiar with moving items to your destination country, including customs laws. Their incompetence caused a month-long delay in receipt of our cargo container.)

The items we focused on were quality-of-life related. Eric chose his favorite motorcycle and associated monstrous, stainless-steel rolling tool box. I chose the contents of my pottery studio. I left behind most of the pieces I’d already made, but every item used to make them was going with me. The rest of the cargo container held a set of vintage rattan patio furniture, clothes, a few pieces of favorite art, and a smattering of personal items.

Disaster and quick-thinking recovery!

Air Animal was scheduled to pick up the dogs on August 29. The dogs couldn’t arrive in Spain until we closed on the house, so they’d be boarded for four days at a kennel in Houston before delivery to the airport. At least… that was the plan. On August 25, Hurricane Harvey slammed into Houston, a full Category 4 storm with winds of more than 130 mph. It dropped 60.58 in of rain in just over 48 hours. Yes, that’s five feet of rain. In two days.

Not only was the road to our ranch underwater, so was the Houston Intercontinental Airport. Kudos to our Air Animal rep, who scrambled to find a solution. She did— a handler in Dallas (four hours away instead of Houston’s two-and-a-half) said he had a heavy-duty vehicle and could get to us by an alternate route. He was good to his word, and we tearfully hugged and kissed our pups goodbye, with promises of extra treats upon their arrival in Spain.

Time to leave

Our own departure finally came on September 1. We each packed two giant suitcases, and two carry-ons. They held all the possessions we’d have until our cargo container arrived and cleared customs, which should have been 45 days in the future, but of course that didn’t happen. Even not expecting our possessions for six weeks made it worth the extra baggage fees to have a few “comforts of home” while we waited. We were immensely grateful to have as much as we did when it turned out we’d be without our container for close to 90 days.

We also had Liona and Timmy, each in a soft pet carrier.

I was still walking with a cane, so for expediency and safety we arranged for a wheelchair. I was still able to help Eric with luggage—my lap was a “luggage cart” once we had to relinquish the rolling cart in the picture.

It was a grueling flight in coach with each of us having a cat between our feet, and me in thick compression hose to prevent DVTs, but we all arrived safely in Spain. The cats hid under the bed of the bed & breakfast where we stayed upon arrival, but calmed down once we had possession of the house and unpacked a few familiar items. The dogs arrived, frazzled but healthy, two days later. They definitely got lots of extra treats.

This is really my life now?

At first, it was hard to accept that this was home now. It felt like a long and amazing vacation, a bit like we were camping in the Davis Mountains in west Texas (albeit with a really nice cabin named Elysium). Even now, after over four years, sometimes I still shake my head in wonder. I get to live like this for the rest of my life! I don’t ever have to “pack and go home” from such a gorgeous mountain valley. This is home.