Have Cat Will Travel...

Written by Jimmy Frost

I've driven a truck for nearly 13 years, and as the years rolled past, I've found the job doesn't get easier. I've followed long and tedious routes and I'd stop at truck stops and to a lesser extent, highway rest areas. I'd see families traveling together, and even get a glimpse as I'd go charging by into the lives of people in their homes who live next to the interstate, leading such normal lives. Seeing other people living the life you wish for, can make you homesick.

The carrier I signed on with offered a decent pay and benefit package. They also offered a pet policy; allowing a driver to have one small dog (commonly known as a "yapper") or one cat. Driving a truck cross-country is a difficult job, simply because of the forced separations from family and friends. Divorce rates run high and old friends are out-of-touch. Other problems include, excessive waiting times to load or unload. Being assigned loads headed in the wrong direction (when all you want to do is head home). Then there is the endless paperwork shuffle as you dance with shipping clerks and Motor Enforcement Patrol officials. Needless to say, it can sure make a fella stir-crazy at times.

At home, my wife and I enjoy the company of two rescued shelter cats; Misty, a Persian with an attitude, and Misty's easy-going companion Serenity (also a Persian). Kim suggested that I consider introducing Serenity to life on the road. I wasn't too keen on this idea since it would negate the reason we got Serenity in the first place, to keep Misty company. To this day, I don't know how my wife ever determined that Misty WAS lonely. "Did she run a personal ad in Cat Fancy magazine? Were there 900 numbers on our phone bill that couldn't be explained? Or did Misty simply spend too much time in Internet chat rooms?" Whatever Kim's logic was, taking Serenity on the road, would deprive Misty of her companion. So I let the matter drop.

Most people, who spend a lot of time behind the wheel, find they have nothing better to do but think. I wasn't exempt, so I started to contemplate what my wife had suggested. Misty and Serenity weren't good candidates for me. Being Persians, meant that their grooming needs (which are extensive) had to be met daily. I doubted my bosses would take kindly to scheduled stops to "Groom and Fluff" showing up on my truck log! I started to entertain the possibility of a "Road Cat", that's what truckers call cats that ride in their rigs.

One Saturday afternoon while visiting our local PetSmart store, the folks from Cat Rescue of Virginia Beach were all set up with their rescues, trying to find them all homes. I had my eye on a calico named Marie. I was petting her through the cage when Lynda Robbins asked, "Would you like to hold her?" Before I could reply, the cage door opened, and Marie lay in my arms. She began her kitty assault on me, nuzzling my face, than laying back into the crook of my arm, purring like a thunderstorm.

I'll admit, this little kitten held me spellbound, I explained to Lynda that I'd have to get Kim's "okay." My wife vetoed the idea quickly, so I apologized to Little Marie and Lynda then left guilt money in their collection jar. I gave little Marie a pet on the nose. Whoever did adopt her was going to have an affectionate cat to share their life with.

The following Monday, I left home for a three-week run. Much of the time while in transit, I chewed over in my head the pros and cons of having a road cat. By the second week I'd made up my mind that I was GOING to have a cat of "my own." Now, what lay before me became the matter of solving the problems I'd encounter while on the road, especially since I averaged 2,750 miles a week. How would a cat adjust to this schedule?

I spoke to several drivers and they offered good advice, gave me some tips and informed me about products they used to keep their rigs living environment suitable for human habitation. Such as multiple-cat litter and litter box deodorizer. I accumulated a list of places along my route where I could find the best deals around. Mentally, I ran my list and checked off each item as I found solutions to the problems facing me. At the end of the run, the Con column was blank and the Pro column was full. Now what loomed before me became clear. I needed to find a certain kitten, and obtain a special "okay!"

Arriving home I began to make some discreet calls to rescue groups within the area of that Petsmart inquiring if they were the ones who had Little Marie. I finally called the right number only to find out that after laying so briefly in my arms tugging at my heartstrings, Marie had quickly been adopted. My heart sank, for she had seemed the purr-fect kitten for me. "But I have other kittens," I heard Lynda say, and within minutes, I found myself writing down directions to Lynda's house and wondering how upset Kim would be to learn of my covert activities.

When Lynda's front door opened, I was pleasantly surprised to find there was no smell. One would think that a house that housed as many as fifteen cats would smell a tad. This spoke well of her and the care she provided her cats. She gave me the grand tour. She had so many cats that needed homes. From owner-surrenders to socialized ferals, she had all ages, shapes and colors.

After carefully surveying the cats before me, I narrowed the choice down to two. One, a gray-striped male tabby and the other, a tortoiseshell calico female looked to be the most promising. I wanted both of them, but selling the idea of one cat to my wife seemed to me a bigger obstacle than I cared to face. Selling her on two would be next to impossible! I chose the tortoiseshell.

Lynda told me the history of this kitten. Her, and her sister had been turned into the animal shelter, scheduled to be euthanized the following day. Lynda and her husband Steve had gone there, noticed them and saved them from their death sentence. As I listened to Lynda talk and filled out the mountain of paperwork before me, I realized that these were good people who held a genuine love of cats. When the last piece of paper held my signature, all that remained before me was letting my wife know we had a brand new addition to the family. I needed a name for this kitten; what better prescription for the highway blues than a kitten? I decided to name the kitten Zoloft, or "Zoey" for short.

After meeting Zoey, Kim's heart melted. God bless her for understanding and doing all she could to see to the needs of our new cat. Purchasing several items that she was positive I would utilize, choosing the food and water bowls and even putting together a kitty Care Package that included a kitten-sized litter pan, food, litter and a scratching post that could hang in the truck. She welcomed Zoey in fine style!

Being a trucker's wife isn't easy, and being THIS trucker's wife has GOT to qualify my wife for sainthood. On my first haul after adopting Zoey, I left Zoey behind to see if she would get along with the other two. According to my wife; in my absence, Zoey was running around the house, becoming a holy-terror. The toy mice found at any pet supply store managed to keep her entertained. On the floor with this toy mouse in a fatal death-grip, she looked up at me when I walked through the door. Her face said it all for me; she recognized me and was on her feet instantly. From that moment on, Zoey knew whom she belonged to. That first night she crawled into bed right next to me as if she'd always been there. And every night since, no matter where we are in the world, she's there. My constant companion, friend and confidant, lulling me to sleep with her purring form snug on my chest. She is my constant alarm clock, waking at just the right moment, walking around my head and demanding that I get up and get moving for another adventure!

There's a part of the human condition that NEEDS to care for another living creature. I believe that since many truckers out here deprive themselves of this basic need, that's when they fall into trouble. Having Zoey along for a companion while I'm doing a job is great therapy for me. To her, I'm the most important person in the world, and I think that's something that everyone wants and needs to be. Zoey fills the void that used to exist. I don't envy others as much anymore for having their loved ones close at hand. Sure, Zoey isn't Kim and Zoey can't cook as well, but she's still enough company for me and having her along is a constant reminder that I DO have a home, a Wife who loves me and I think that would bode well to keep me from making the mistake that a lot of drivers make when they're lonely resulting in regret, emotional trauma and divorce. Cats are capable of sensing our moods and can provide a human being with love and affection when other humans don't have time. Pet's are, in my opinion, one of the best gifts that have ever been bestowed on mankind.

As this article progresses, I'll explain how Zoey became acclimated to my "home away from home." What challenges we faced, and the problems we solved. Perhaps my experiences will encourage others to open their hearts to the wonder of owning a cat. It is also my hope that the advice, tricks and tips I have discovered during this special time, will encourage others to travel with their pets. I am not implying that boarding a pet is not the right thing to do for some people, but I'm convinced that once the cat and the human get the hang of it, traveling with your cat can be fun and rewarding. Why leave your pet at home if you worry about them while you are gone? Why not take that ball of love along with you? I will also introduce you to a special group of children whose classroom adopted Zoey as their mascot. I'll invite you into the diesel-powered home that Zoey and I share and you'll see how one kitten can learn to steal Twinkies and hearts as well.