January 8, 2012—Too bad cats are not dogs. Dogs, for the most part, listen to their masters. Cats do not. Dogs like to go for rides. Cats do not. Dogs are affectionate. Cats are not. (Oh, that’s another subject, sorry.)
Today, after spending hours packing Baby, by about 3 p.m. we were finally ready to hit the road. The only thing left to do was to get the cats on board the bus.
Earlier in the day, I saw Charlie lying on our bed, amid all the clothes that were spread out ready for us to store on board. I made a grab for him, and put him (unwillingly) into the guest bathroom. My plan was to find Xena and put her in there, also. I wanted to do this before we went to get the RV, since the noise of the diesel would freak them into hiding under the bed.
An hour or so after stashing Charlie, I found Xena sunbathing on the chair on the porch. I managed to grab her (no easy task; she’s as fast and as slippery as an eel) and carefully took her to the bathroom. When I opened the door, however, Charlie had been lying in wait, and he burst through the narrow opening. Trying to toss Xena in and catch Charlie at the same time, I only managed to lose them both. The two cats made a bee-line to hide under our king-sized bed, where they stayed until we were ready to leave.
Our bed is not like most. It does not sit on a bed frame. Instead, it rests on a platform, which is on top of a set of underbed drawers. On either end of the bed, a space between the drawers exists, creating an alleyway for the cats. That’s where they like to hide.
When it came time for us to leave, we closed the bedroom door, and Jim teased the cats with the end of a walking stick. Xena was the first to accede. She didn’t like being poked, so she finally went to the headboard end, near enough to the side, where I managed to capture her. I trotted her out to the bus immediately. She wasn’t happy.
Charlie was more difficult. Jim poked and prodded, teased and toyed, but Charlie just cried and refused to come out. I could look down on him as he scrunched half under the bed, half out, by the headboard. Jim kept screaming at me to grab him. But, I couldn’t. The headboard was too high; I couldn’t reach down.
Jim’s patience began to wear thin. (You can guess how he expressed his feelings for Charlie at this point.) He kept prodding Charlie to get out; Charlie kept meowing no, until finally Jim had to push at him. Finally,
Charlie moved closer to the end of the headboard, where I could grab him by the scruff. I immediately carted him off to the bus. As I opened the door; he jumped out of my arms to hide in his favorite place, behind the kitchen cabinets.
This story ends on a happy note, however. By the time we actually left, one or both of the cats laid claim to the litter boxes, evidenced by the paw prints in each. After a couple hours on the road, Xena came out, looking, I believe for her dinner. That’s when we discovered we had forgotten the canned cat food. We stopped at a Wal-Mart to buy some. Xena liked the food. And Charlie actually came out of hiding, not only to eat, but also to socialize (as much as he does during waking hours).
So, the cats are, I believe, becoming more accustomed to their home on wheels. It’s a good thing, because we will be traveling for the next six to eight weeks.
Now, if I could only teach them to come, sit, and shake hands on demand. You know, like a dog.
Until next time,
Your Reluctant RoVer,