About 20 years ago, I imported by car a rifle stock from Accuracy International. The Canadian distributor wanted 2.3X the American price.
Too funny! VERY similar story. Brothers from another mother thing again.
Family got me a nice muzzle loader when I retired. Only hitch was that the model was not sold in Canada. ITAR regs don't apply to muzzle loaders in the USA. Might as well be a leaf blower or a kid's squirt gun.
Canada is different. Had to get the serial number and register with the RCMP in advance. Easily done complete with a registration number already in the system ready to go. Guy even told me where to find it and what was involved. Thank God!
Picked a nice day to drive over. Should have brought my bride along but didn't. She has a way of calming my adrenalin levels. Little did I know how badly that would be needed.
No problem leaving the US via Detroit Bridge. Arrived at Canada Customs. Proudly announced I had a muzzle loader to declair. What is a muzzleloader she asked. When I told her, you would think I fired it. All hell broke loose. 20 gaurds around me, ordered to get out and "WAIT OVER THERE WITH THAT ENFORCEMENT GAURD". Gaurd was half my size. He had a gun but it might as well have been a pea shooter. He knew it too. I had to wonder what the hell he was thinking as he stood there staining his pants.
I watched as they took my brand new unfired gun out of the box, THREW it onto a steel cart with sharp steel container edges, and then bounced across the lot over to the office with it.
Adrenlin flow rate increased. Gaurd knew it. Backed away from me. Pant staining rate increased. So did the growing stains in his arm pitts.
Asked if I should go in. Was told "STAY RIGHT THERE AND DON'T MOVE".
An hour later the biggest guy in the place came to get me. Still maybe 2/3 my size. Also very nervous. Went inside with him. Muzzle loader was nowhere in sight. THEY were waiting for me.
The smallest guy in the place called me over to the declaration desk and then gave me a very stern lecture about bringing guns in, clearly against the law, they were confiscating it, and I would be detained until the RCMP arrived. Should have seen his face when I told him the RCMP already knew I was coming and I had a clearance number on file. Looked at me for 10 minutes as though I had a third eye in my forehead. Then asked me to repeat that. I did.
Started to give me a hard time, but I repeated what I had been told, pointed at his screen and told him how to get at my pre-clearance. He tried and failed. I remembered that the RCMP guy had told me it was buried several levels down under a menu on the top right. He failed again. I asked if he touched the right menu and he made a huge mistake - he turned the screen to where I could see it while he clicked. I walked him through getting to the right screen. Lotta poking at the wrong keys. Finally he turned the whole thing enough for me to punch everything in myself.
Sure enough, there was my clearance waiting for me. More blank staring. Gunna have to hold it anyway. Management orders. Out of his control. But thankfully an entirely different demeanour now.
After a bit more back N forth he went and got the manager. First time the manager ever laid eyes on me. I explained how it was already cleared and I lived an hour away, didn't really want to come back, they prolly didn't want me back either.
Manager stared at me for another 5 minutes. Those customs folks love to stare at you. I think it's part of their training. Either that or its the fear - freeze, flight, fight - reaction kicking in. He told the first guy to give me my gun and then gave him shite for letting me touch their computer, then gave me shite for touching it, then asked if I would come back and show them how I did that. I agreed and gave him my number to call.
They gave me my gun and I walked out of there holding it in plain view of everyone in the whole complex.
Never even paid tax on it.
Never got a call either.
What a shite show.