There are worse things I could do

Grease / Original Broadway Cast












“No Xing, Please.” I begged, between the chorus of "It's Raining On Prom Night."


It's February. We are driving up NY Interstate 88 and are currently two exits past the middle of nowhere. The weather is threatening snow, as always, and we still have to cross the Berkshires. I’m two hours later leaving than planned.  I've driven at least 30 miles with all the windows open, so the cold air will rush in and keep her comfortable and we are singing showtunes.  I am inserting the cat's name whenever appropriate.  She is howling.  

Resigned, I pull off to the shoulder of the road as my travel companion is starting to heave.  I knew this was coming, the timber of howl had shifted and she was lining up for maximum projectile potential.

We have a system though. We've done this a lot.

On the side of the road, first the leash is put on. We want no escaping. Then the travel kit is taken out. Like traveling with an infant: paper towel, wet wipes, trash bag, bottled water, newspaper… Except with the cat, I also carried rabies information because I didn’t want some dumb cop thinking there was a problem because she was frothing at the mouth. “No, really Officer, she’s just car sick…”


Next, I get the small black and white cat, now looking green out on the side of the road off the passenger's side. We pause as she shakes and I heave. I get settled, I clean her up. I heave again and get settled. All the while the leash is wrapped tight around my wrist and one hand is trying to grasp the cat (usually around the neck) at all times, because we ARE on the side of a highway.  And I want to run off into the woods, but I know it's not a feasible option.  I'm not sure if she does. At least she was tolerant of this.  I'd like to think she knew it was out of concern and love and not simply that she felt too bad to fight about it.

Then the cat carry is cleaned and the paper is replaced along with the cat. No easy task doing this one handed, because letting go of the cat for even a moment is out of the question.  The leash is a back up plan only.  The trash is picked up and we have the conversation:

“Xing, please, please, please, just hold off for a few hours. Please. You can do it. I believe in you.  Your mama can’t do this. If you will just not spew any more, I will give you chopped liver, tuna, ice cream, whatever you want when we get there, okay? Please kitty?”

Sometimes this worked; of course after the first few experiences we stopped feeding her before travel if we could. This helped marginally.  But it was never pretty.

Xingu never liked travel. When she was a kitten we took her for a ride for ice cream. She heaved. We took her to the vet, she heaved. We moved, she heaved; all six moves before D.C.... she heaved.

When we moved from Connecticut to D.C. I was concerned. This was a long ride....   I consulted vets, they offered no real solution. We could knock her out, but if it were true motion sickness, we’d have a limp car sick cat. That didn’t sound good and if we got the dose wrong a dead cat. That was unacceptable. We could try things to settle one’s stomach, such as peanut butter, but if it didn’t work… Well, we won’t go there.

Personally, at that point I thought she was ‘faking it.’  She was a very pissy cat.  In fact, she was the only cat I've ever known who could flip you off with her tail.  So a month before the move we got her a pretty pink cat caddy. We showed it to her. She thought it was cool. We put a blanket it in and she was good with that. She’d even hang out in it.

Then, with her in it we brought her to the car. She. Was. Pissed. That was the end of the cool factor. Such a teenager. But still we persisted. Every day for over a month, first it was a few days all of us sitting in the car. Then a few days of driving around the block. Then two blocks. Then 20 minutes, then thirty… The neighbors I’m sure were finding it hilarious. And Xingu spewed, every time.

We moved to D.C. 4th of July weekend.  Imagine the Jersey Turnpike, 4th of July weekend...with a car sick cat....  Of course, that year, due to various circumstances, we drove that Connecticut - D.C. I-95 route literally 25 times.  And she frothed and heaved and did other unmentionalble things on every single one of those trips.

Two moves and a couple of years later, she and I traveled back and forth from rural NY to Connecticut every other week for a school year.  Each trip played out like above, (except sometimes we sang  different showtunes or I made up songs as we went.)

I do feel bad about this.  That poor cat suffered through more car rides than I can count. But she did like showtunes, especially Grease, the original (not Olivia Newton John).

Xingu

1989- 2006