Tag Archives: cat carrier

Moving…There’s Not Enough Vodka for This. Vol. 1

It all started with what I thought was a dog’s bellowing.
You know that sound.
Something between a howl and a growl.
Or it was a terrible bagpipe performance….performed by a ostrich.

In reality, it was our cat….. Monkey.
In her carrier.
Being taken out to the car.

By the time we got everyone into the backseat, the cats were carrying on a conversation that clearly they thought life, as they knew it was over. Well, buy those felines a king size bag of nip….they were correct!

We were on the way to get kitty health certificates because in two short days….they were  flying with Momma from Miami to Boston!  Are we excited? Oh yeah.

They were about as excited as cats going to the vet’s office, in cat carriers, in the back seat of the car….screaming the whole way.  We’re going to need some drugs.  Either the cats are going to need drugs for the flight or I’m going to need drugs for the flight.

Someone WILL be medicated.

Fast forward and let the chaos unfold.

Day of the flight…I am packed and ready to go.  The house is fairly boxed up and sorted out.

Eric will be driving up in the Honda, so I have a pile of “must go in the car” and a pile of “would be nice to go in the car” and a “can wait for the movers” pile.  Knowing how the day is going to progress, I begin the day with a hearty breakfast – a Whipped Cream Vodka shot.  Perfect.

I download a movie.  Get dressed.  Throw things in my two giant suitcases,  one under the seat suitcase, which will be checked as luggage and one carry on.

One cat, will be a carry on.  Two cats will be checked as luggage.

There is a word for this traveling style:  Circus.

The only saving grace for today is it’s a non-stop flight.

Time to get dressed.  Boston.  It’s freezing, literally.

Attire: jeans, long sleeve shirt, jacket, Xtra Tuff boots.

UGH.  Time for another shot….Rootbeer Vodka Shot.

Alright, we are close to leaving, time to pack up the small pets.  I calmly say to Eric.  I’m getting a cat.  I pick up Taku, the youngest and stuff her into a pink, hard sided carrier.

He grabs Liggy, the eldest at 15 years, and we back her into her soft sided case.  She is the one traveling under the seat.

Next up is Monkey.

It becomes a three ring circus.  Monkey is under the couch, over the chair, up the stairs.  Her tail is as fat as my arm.  She is NOT happy.  She is hissing.  Growling.  Under the couch.  Over the chair.  Under the couch.  Through the kitchen.  Behind the boxes.

We are now 10 minutes into trying to catch Monkey.

What.

Is.

That.

Stench?

Great.  She has released her anal glands.  Think musky, dirty, poopy, dank, odor from the swampy depths of cat butt.  Awesome.

Scratches on Eric’s legs as we try and grab her as she dashes past on her way round boxes, under the couch, under the coffee table, over the chair….knocking over trash cans, empty suitcases and other roadblocks.

Finally, we catch her and she is literally sweating.  Her fur is wet.

The Monkey.  Is.  Pissed.

A blood curling yowl escapes from her little furry black body.

Into the pink carrier she goes.

I need another shot…..

Now, we’re late, of course.  Damn it Monkey!  We get into the car and the felines are silent.  I think someone said two words and that was about the end of it.  They knew.

We race up to Ft. Lauderdale airport and decide to drop me, the luggage and the circus at the sidewalk.  There are hundreds of people in line for curbside check in.  You have got to be kidding me.  We don’t have time for this.  I can’t lug three suitcases and three cats by myself while Eric parks the car.  So I decide to crouch next to the felines and talk calmly to them.  There isn’t a porter in sight.

I’m sweating through my Xtra Tuffs and jeans.

Is that a whiff of Monkey ass?

Christ, please.  I don’t want to smell like cat butt.

Next thing I know I hear this man say, “Mommy, you need help?”

I look up and low and behold….A PORTER!  A PORTER ALL FOR ME!  Yes, I will be anyone’s mommy if you can help me!

Yes, yes, yes! I need help!  Checking in…with three cats!  Please!  (Get me into the air conditioning before my crotch soaks through these jeans in this heat…that would be a fantastic feat!)

Within minutes, he had me in the line and we were zipping to the check in counter.

Next thing I know we get to the counter.  My little agent guy has a helper.  The helper lady seems to be doing a lot of the work.  Uh-oh.  My little agent guy….is new.  Buddy, I don’t have time for new.  Not today.

Look, you fill out the form, you slap it on the kennel. It already has a Live Animals sticker on there.  You put the label with the arrow going UP.  You want the kennel to stay in the UPRIGHT position.  Are you kidding me?

I don’t want to tell you how to do you job – but damn – I don’t have time for this.

Then they tell me we have to take the two kennels going under the plane over to TSA and they need to inspect the kennels and we have to take the cats out.  I look at Eric.  One word comes to mind.

M O N K E Y

We tell the TSA guy, “well, let’s do the easy one first.”  Taku, who never says a word, comes out…blinks at us while I hold her…. and goes back in.  Time for the stinky, pain in the ass, but really she’s just scared to death,  one.  I open the door, reach in and grab her by the neck ruff.

WE will not be playing any games in this airport missy.  You may think you’re all that and a bag of cat nip…but I AM the momma cat and YOU WILL not be fucking around.

Fine, back in she goes.

Next, time for me to go through the security gate and I look at Eric.   What time is it? Plane boards in 10 minutes.  GREAT.  I have to give Liggy her medicine 30 – 60 minutes before the flight.

Wait!  Where is my iPad?  Momentarily I panic.  It’s in the car.  I debate, leave it or should Eric go and get it?  I downloaded a movie to watch just for this flight!  I have my book, but I really wanted to watch the movie.  He runs and gets the iPad….in the meanwhile….

I throw everything on the floor.  I grab the pill and try to shove it down Liggy’s throat while she is sitting in her little bag.

Once, twice, three times.  Not happening.

I open the bag.  Jerk her out and hold her in my lap.

You.  Will. Eat.  This.  Pill.

Liggy, however, has other ideas.

Such as…..there will be no pill going down her throat today.

EAT THE PILL!

By this time, sweat, is pouring down my face.  I am literally, a hot mess.

Eric is back and he’s telling me, “you have to go.”

Okay, well.  Here’s hoping she ate the pill.

Pack up the 15 pound cat, roller suitcase and my handbag.  Off we go through security.

I get to the X-ray machine and tell them I have a cat.  “Please take her out of the bag.”  Okay.  Liggy and I then stand there for 5 minutes while they discuss with the persons in front of me which machine they should use.  The walk through X-ray or the stand there with your hands above your head machine.

Okay, I’m standing here with a 15 pound feline, who isn’t really happy with her situation.  Could we move this along?  Is she doesn’t start hissing, I might.  We both might.

We get through the machine and don’t you know her carrier bag get stopped on the conveyor belt…..just short of arm’s reach.  There’s that sign that says, “don’t reach in to grab your bag.”  Come on.

COME ON!!!!

I get all the stuff…cat in the bag.  Luckily, for once, I was the FIRST GATE!  Eureka.  They were already boarding First Class when I arrived, so I dashed to the restroom.  Why?

Well, yes, to use the restroom, but also, because unlike most people.  My quart size bag….is filled with airplane bottles of…vodka.  Yep.  So I had a shot of chocolate vodka before jumping on my flight.

(No.  Contrary to popular belief, the only thing TSA has ever said to me was, “Finally someone actually gets the idea of what they should be using the quart size bags for on these flights!”  I can get about 8 little bottles in there.)

Liggy and I get to the gate and I hop in line.  I look around and smile.

Finally.

This is the first time in two years.

I have found my people.

Carhartts.

Flannel.

Boots.

North Face.

Fleece.

English is the first language.

It’s good.

As I get on the plane I advise the crew I had two other felines joining me below, they were like, “YOU’RE the CAT LADY!!!!”  Yes.  Yes.  I am.  They were delighted.  They had the slips showing Taku and Monkey were already boarded.

Liggy and I get on board and the middle seat remains empty.  I’m thrilled.  I’m thinking, this is great!  I will enjoy my movie “Chef” and order a seltzer water for my Vodka….after the last four hours, I need another Vodka.  Liggy, I’m pretty sure, hasn’t taken her pill as she keeps changing positions and mewing.

Then it happens.

I get a middle seat person.

Which under normal circumstances, would be fine.  But this, of course, isn’t normal circumstances.

Guess who sits next to me?

Nope.  A pilot.  Of course!  There goes my Vodka.  (Plan B:  have to use the restroom and take my purse, which had my quart size bag anyway after security.)

So, definitely, Liggy had not taken her pill.  Luckily the noise of the aircraft mostly drowned out her meows but she definitely could not sit still.  Well sister we have three hours to go, suck it up.

We finally land Boston and we hop off the plane.  Liggy and I meet our pick up party in baggage claim.  All the luggage arrives and we wait patiently for the two pink cat carriers to come through “special baggage”.  Apparently, animals are last off the plane.

As soon as I saw those two carriers I said, “There’s my little girls.”

Then SHE LET ME HAVE IT.

It was one big yyyyyeeeeeeeoooooooowwwwwwwlllllll….followed by…..

A where in the hell are we?

And a who the hell do you think you are?

And a what the hell was that?

And never again!

And a fuck you lady and the horse you flew in on!

Monkey.  Was.  Pissed.

By the time we got out to the car, she was exhausted and had no further words.

Now, if we could just get her to come out from under the bed….we’d be doing good!  She does laps, to make sure we’re still here.  Then back she goes.

 

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Move It or Loose It – Part 1

It’s been awhile since my last entry.

With good reason.

I moved out of Alaska.

To take a new job, which I’m thrilled about, except for one thing.

It’s in Miami.

Today, back home in Juneau, it’s 33 degrees and snowing.  Today in Miami, it’s 82 degrees and 67% humidity.  I didn’t used to have an afro.  Now I do.  I don’t even think Oprah’s hairstylist could tame my curls at this point.  Oh wait, did I mention?  I’m a white girl.  With an afro.  (And it’s not even August.)

I’ve been here for 1 week.

It’s been an adventure.

I should have guessed it was going to be ridiculous when I pulled the cat carrier out from under my seat on the plane and the lady, who sat next to me on the five-hour flight from Seattle to Ft. Lauderdale says to me, “Oh, is that a cat?”  Liggy had decided she had enough of the carrier and was starting to tell me all about her issues.  I looked at the lady and said, “No, it’s a pygmy goat.”

REALLY?  Perplexed face.

No.  Of course it’s a cat!

Fast forward to my first official drive on the six lane highway. In my mind, I was trying to drive like a NASCAR racer, just trying to keep up with the pack.  Mind you, in Juneau we have one main road – two lanes in each direction – 60 mph is standard and we only experience rush minutes.

Here I am ….  hands at ten and two.  At one point, as I slowly pried my fingers from around the wheel, I thought….I better invest in a Virgin Mary statue for the dashboard.

Needless to say after 1 week – I’ve got this driving thing down pat.  Now I’m the one that’s yelling, “MOVE IT….”  There’s two options for driving in Miami, drive the car or park it.

My first day at my new job was interesting.  I haven’t had a new job in really 13 years.  Luckily, I’ve had the same boss all these years and just kept jumping from one new experience to the other within the companies we worked.  Easy.  Tourism, while a big industry is really fairly small.  Once you’re in – you can learn to do anything – provided you enjoy the industry.

Oh, did I mention, I took a job in the corporate offices of Royal Caribbean Cruises?  Yep.  A complete 180 from what I’m used to in Alaska:

  • No longer an actual office but a padded cell.  I mean a cubicle.  It does have a fabulous view from the floor to ceiling windows of the Miami skyline across the water.
  • Jeans, rain gear and Xtra Tuff boots are not the uniform.  Ankle breaking heels and cute skirts are the norm.
  • More computer programs to learn than a NASA astronaut.
  • An employee identification card that swipes you into the building and parking lot.
  • Personal identification number, which I refer to as my prison number, identifies you.
  • Can’t drive down the road for Pel Meni but you can go to the company cafeteria.
  • Not so much a brown bear spotted at lunch outside,  but a big Iguana.

On my first day, in my furry little mind….this is how my morning would unfold.  I mean it seemed logical to me so why shouldn’t it.  Right?

I’d arrive right on time, get my visitor pass from the security desk and immediately walk myself into HR to wrap up my paperwork.  Next, I’d go upstairs to see my new boss and on the way stick my head in the VP’s office and say hello.  (Don’t panic, it’s okay, I’ve met him before so it’s not like I’m being pompous.) Thus would begin my career at RCCL.

In reality….not so much.

I arrive early and sit in the car for 10 minutes outside.  (A/C running of course.)  Then it hits me, what I’m about to do.  Start a new job, in a new company, in a new city….I don’t even know where to find the toilettes let alone a paperclip here.

Stomach starts to roll.

Mouth goes dry.

Sweat begins to ooze.

Skin flushes a lovely red.

Here goes nothing.  I throw open the car door and march up the steps to the building.  I stop at security and get my badge.  She asks who I’m there to see.  I explain I am a new employee but need to see HR first.  Nope.  No such luck.  She calls upstairs and then instructs me to head up to the 5th floor to my department.

WAIT!

That’s not how it’s supposed to go!  I’m supposed to go, in my mind, to HR first!  Not immediately to the department!  Well now this is a pickle.

Now my entire skeletal system feels like it’s on one of those old style exercise machines, where you stand with the big band around your waist and it jiggles away the fat.  Yep.  That’s me.

I politely inquire about the nearest water closet and head that direction.

Big breaths.  Breathing.  Walking.  Upper lip has stopped sweating – now I’m just shaking like a big bowl of Bill Cosby’s Jello.  Dear Lord don’t let me break an ankle in these shoes…one foot in front of the other.  Keep breathing.

Doors open on the 5th floor and I’m greeted by the department’s true angel, the woman who makes us all look good and I swear she must be part of a set of triplets to accomplish all she does in a day.  She gives me a big hug and escorts me to Director’s Row – that’s my name for where all the Directors sit with obviously the VP’s office at the top of the line.

As we approach my boss’ office I see movement in the VP’s office out of the corner of my eye.  Well, I can’t very well pop my head in there now since we’re heading straight for my boss’s office.  My plan has been turned into a right kerfuffle.

We stop short of my boss’s office.

I now realize the VP has come out of his office and is standing directly behind me.

Well shit.  My entire plan has really gone to pot.  This isn’t how I envisioned the start of my day.  Now what do I do?  And I know he’s a hugger.  So there’s that awkward moment of…to hug or not to hug.  If you’re going to hug is it a full hug or a side hug.  I’m short so it’s always awkward anyway.  But today I have on heels so I have gained 3 inches for sure.

Dear Lord, is that sweat dripping down from my armpit?

There’s only two solutions:  Stand really still and hope he doesn’t see me.  Or turn around and acknowledge him.

Let’s just say I may have startled him a bit.  Why?  Well I think I actually yelled my greeting at him.  It happens.  When I get nervous.  It’s like a nervous tic but different and it’s not quite like Turrets Syndrome either.

I turned around, threw my arms open and said:

HEY!  HOW ARE YOU!!!  I MADE IT!

Or something along those lines was shouted and then promptly echoed over the 5th floor.  I’m fairly certain the people on the other side of the building heard me.   The upside is at least I’m starting off my employment with a bang!