Squashing One Moving Obstacle at a Time

[I finally captured Jack (front right), Ace (distant middle), and myself (part of me) all in one oddly angled and slightly blurry photo. Man, why am I even trying to become a writer when I am so obviously a photography prodigy.]

My mind has been trying to wrap itself around a certain obstacle I will eventually have to overcome. I will assume that you have caught on to the fact that I plan to move oodles of miles away when the time is right. I will also proudly say I believe to have determined the general region for my relocation. I’ll elaborate on that a little later. I can’t tell you specifics right now. You already know too much. What I can tell you, is that the region is well over a day’s drive from the end of the world tip of the boot.

My point? Well, I want you to take a good look at the animals in that picture up there. One of them is a seasoned and serial car pooper/vomiter/demon noise maker. I refuse to take Ace half a mile down the road let alone half way across the country. So, I did a little research to find out just how I would pull off the biggest kitty voyage ever attempted and what tools I would need to get me through it. Let me just put on my cat whispering gear.

What I assumed the solution would be: Fork over a ridiculous amount of money for some extra strength cat roofies and try to explain to hotel staff and onlookers at pit stops why I am waltzing around with two limp balls of fur like it is some sort of fashion statement, all while my cats remain in a coma for two days straight.

What I learned after a good old fashion Google session: Do not roofie your cat(s). Instead, I will follow the plan of action below.

• I want to avoid tranquilizing, because it will never stop my cats from shitting all over the place. It will only make it more likely for them to fall face first into the aftermath.
• Invest in something called a pheromone diffuser  along with a few 8-balls of catnip. Basically, I want to turn my back seat into a full on kitty rager. The goal is to get them so high that moving feels like standing still and standing still feels like moving.
• Jack and Ace will be in separate carriers. I do not want them eating each other’s faces.
• For added motion desensitizing, drape a towel or blanket over the carriers. This will also give them adequate privacy to lick and rub the hell out of themselves while feeling the psychedelic effects of all those synthetic pheromones.
• Finally, no matter how bad they get the munchies, do not feed  them until reaching a destination. This will only encourage further expulsion of fluids (because let’s face it, at this point nothing is coming out of there as a solid).

I should probably tell Jack to start packing now so that this doesn’t happen, because when the final day of the count down to relocate arrives, prepared I will be. Yoda? Did I just accidentally Yoda-speak? I must have ingested some catnip myself. No wonder the strings hanging from my hoodie are looking so damn inviting right now.

Articles that were most helpful in my research:

• How to Travel With a Cat in a U-haul
• Travel for cats – Share your experiences and tip for safe travel with cats
• International Health Care Certificate (I had no clue this existed)
  

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