It seems Lauren is preparing to drive cross-country with her cats and having survived the experience myself I was inspired to share the following story.
The year was 1998. It was the middle of May and I had just put into motion my escape plan from Michigan. The Mayflower truck was already enroute to Phoenix and I was set to crash for the night at my parent’s place. I had traveled many times cross-country, but this would be the first time with cats in tow.
My morning started at 4am. First task give Bailey & Julia the Xanax prescribed by the local vet. My sister had made a similar cross-country trip to Seattle only a year before and she highly recommended this method for cat control in the vehicle. Pilled Bailey without a hitch. Julia was quite a different story. The first pill she just up and spit out. The second pill I held her mouth shut for a minute and after she clawed my hand she spit it out. I tried a third, fourth & final time each drawing more severe lacerations until I needed pills myself to ease MY pain. After 30 minutes I decided I could deal with a howling cat in my car.
With my beat up Mercury Tracer packed to the legal limit, I put the two cats in separate carriers in the back seat. I realized right away I was in for a long trip as after thirty minutes on the road neither cat had stopped caterwauling. I knew I would hear from Julia as she wasn’t medicated, but the surprise was Bailey. His drug induced stupor sounded like a small child drowning as his elongated yowl pierced my ears. Once I got on the highway I turned up my radio in an effort to drown out the cat noise.
After a while the chatter died down a little, but the cats would quickly start over whenever I pulled into a rest area. The vet had told me the cats would be less inclined to pee inside their carriers because of the confined space and I should encourage them to use a litterbox when making an extended stop. I tried this only once. I had just entered Ohio when I pulled into a welcome center. Knowing I couldn’t walk the cats I had placed a small litterbox in the front seat of my car. With the passenger door open I took Bailey out of his carrier and placed him in the box. He immediately laid out spread eagle style. Apparently in his doped up state he was unable to stand correctly. He was so freaked out from being in the car that I realized he probably wouldn’t use the box. It was quite a chore getting Bailey out of the litterbox back into his carrier. A 20lb. mass of fur covered in litter dust wasn’t any fun to handle especially when it was as limp as a wet pasta noodle.
Mid-afternoon I had the brilliant idea to let the cats out of the carriers INSIDE the car. My thought was if they were allowed to move around a bit maybe they wouldn’t be crying as much. It didn’t take long before they both crowded around my feet and Julia wedged herself behind the brake pedal. I pulled off at the next exit and spent OVER AN HOUR attempting to get the cats back into their carriers. Julia proved to be the kitty-contortionist as no matter how many of her feet I had in my hand they all managed to pop out just as I placed half her body in the carrier. I tried the head first method, the butt first method. I tried standing the carrier up and dropping her in. I was lucky that she was too scared to run anywhere, but that didn’t prevent her from ducking underneath my car. I had just finished with Julia when my attention turned to Bailey who I couldn’t find. I was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten out of the car while I was fussing with Big Mama Kitty and after a few moments I realized he was hiding underneath the driver’s seat. I reached under and tried to pull him out, but he was stuck. I pulled a few times before getting a better look at the situation. Turns out his head kept bumping the seat lever whenever I pulled. He let out an elongated yowl and his eyes rolled like a crack baby. Oh yeah, the Xanax was such a good idea. I finally managed to get Bailey unwedged from the seat and put him back in the carrier. That’s when the hornet flew inside my vehicle. Yeah.
Eventually I got back on the road and crossed my fingers in hopes that there wouldn’t be any kitty accidents in the car. 15 hours later I stopped at a roadside motel. It was 1am. The cats got to eat & pee and I planned on sleeping for several hours. The cats made sure that didn’t happen. At 4am I checked out. I passed on any further attempts to dope the cats as the pills only made Bailey’s cries more annoying. I was in Missouri when I stopped. I drove straight all the way to Arizona only stopping for food & gas along the way. I drove like a man on a mission, neither rain nor sleet nor steady inclines which nearly blew out my engine would prevent me from getting to my destination so I could get these screaming felines out of my car.
The only event that would qualify as a similar Olympic sport would be cat bathing.
The Plot – It isn’t the blackouts that worry Evan’s mother, but a fear that he may share the same illness that has kept his father institutionalized since Evan’s birth. After an incident at school a specialist recommends Evan keep a daily journal of his activities. Years pass and whenever Evan experiences something traumatic he blacks out. Eventually his mother moves him away from his childhood companions, too late to save any of them from the horrors they’ve shared.