As if this family doesn't have enough trouble getting ourselves out the door for a road trip, what with the packing of the stuff (so much stuff), and then the loading of the stuff (so very much stuff), AND THEN the dead battery - we, the family that finds ever new shades of meaning to the word 'debacle,' decided that we should bring along the old man cat. We had permission from my family, of course. And we tried to warn them; we didn't sugarcoat it. He whines. He wails. He runs into things. With his head. He sheds his white hair on all of your black stuff. There is the hairball issue. And what is that smell? -- It's exactly what you think it is.
And if those aren't good enough reasons to kennel this creature, there is the infamous CAT INCIDENT of 2002. We ourselves can't recall it without reliving the horror. I won't go into the details, but you can do the math: one 14 pound cat + one 6-inch deep shelf approximately 4 feet high + one terrazzo floor + one valuable family antique. Oh, yes he did.
I'm sure you understand why kitty hasn't been invited on a road trip in 7 years and can sense our trepidation at bringing this four-legged furry oaf into another person's home, a home with light colored carpeting and pretty, breakable things.
But, as I learned, it turns out my cat only behaves like an idiot at home. Oh, he was such an angel! So pretty. So white and fluffy. So amiable. So cuddly with his big blue eyes. Waiting patiently to be fed. Quietly mewing in a cute, kittenish way. Not heaving his hulking mass onto tiny antique-holding shelves.
Not that we're unhappy about this uncharacteristic display of good behavior. We just wish he had brought it home with him.
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