Wrapped Around a Velvet Paw

Written by Jimmy Frost

For one reason or another, people are usually intimidated by truckers. Many truckers are thought of as being ex- bikers. This perception is being perpetuated by the negative image the movie industry portrays us in. We’re “dangerous, irresponsible, doped-up cowboys running wild on the highways”.

With that all-too popular concept of truckers, you can imagine the laughs that the staff at Zoey’s veterinarian hospital enjoys when this big, bad, bald-headed, three-hundred-pound, red-necked trucker walks in with this itty-bitty kitty-cat that he fusses over.

Most of the clients that the Vet’s office caters to prefer the “drop-off” service, so they can go about their day of trying to cram 28 hours of activity into a 24-hour day, but not me. I bring Zoey in, fill out the paperwork and won’t release my hold on her until I’m ready to let go. I plant, my, rear-end in a chair until we’re called and we see the Doctor together. I lay my jacket out on the cold, steel examination table. I take great interest in what they’re doing, and why they’re doing it. I ask countless questions and really don’t care about how much the vet bill is.

I remember when Sari, our second Persian was being spayed. I dropped Sari off at the Vet’s Office, but I left strict instruction with them that if anything came up, they were to act first, and inform me later. You can imagine my terror when my cell phone rang and the caller I.D. indicated it was the Vet’s office, “Something went wrong with Sari!” was the first panicked thought that flashed through my mind.

“No, Mr. Frost, nothing is wrong, the operation went just fine!” the vet tech soothed me. The vet was calling too inform me that she had noticed one of Sari’s baby-teeth abscessing. “Would she like them to pull it out?” I told her yes, of course, by all means. She was calling to ask because the bill would be an extra thirty dollars.

I remember telling her, “Dr. Fleming, if you don’t drive trucks, then I won’t operate on cats. You do whatever you need to for Sari. I promise not to be upset over paying you, as long as you save the tooth for me. Is that a deal?” Dr. Fleming was happy to hear that and good as her word. To this day, my wife and I have one of Sari’s baby-teeth in a jar.

My neurosis carries over to my other cats as well; Misty, our first cat, and my “Road Cat” Zoey. When Misty became ill and had to be hospitalized for five days, I called once a day to ask how she was and when she could come home. Than came Zoey’s turn to be spayed. I had to be at work without her for a month. The vet said the constant motion of the truck would interfere with her getting better, and my run at the time was a long one. All I knew is I was miserable without her!

I missed her shoving cat litter on the floor. I missed stepping on her toys in the middle of the night barefoot. I remember waking up at night in a panic thinking I had lost her, only to remember that she was safe at home. What I missed most about not having her along were the classic “cat moments” I’d been lucky enough to witness. Those moments that either caused me to laugh, or tugged at my heartstrings...

I took Zoey to the vet’s one day. As soon as we walked in, a dog started barking. Zoey immediately activated her emergency escape system by hooking her claws into my shoulder. She was ready to bolt if a dog came near her.

Compare that with the time we were in South Carolina. While waiting on a load of paper pulp another one of my carrier’s tractors parked next to my truck. The driver had a border collie in his truck. Zoey was sitting on the dash grooming. When the dog saw her, he went nuts! He began barking and Zoey looked over her shoulder as if to say, “You’re an idiot” then went right back to her grooming.

Another time, when I was back-logged on my paperwork and had papers lying all over the dashboard, Zoey decided that she should lay there. She proceeded to rearrange my work in the process. After shooing her away several times with no success, I raised my voice and said, “WILL YOU GET OFF THE DASHBOARD!” Zoey immediately got off the dashboard and proceeded to pee on my bed!

Then there are the times when I’m driving down the highway and I’ll feel her pawing at my elbow and meowing to get my attention. When I look down, there she is with one of her toy mice she’s dropped on the floor at the base of my seat, hoping I’ll throw it. She loves “fetch.” When we visit PetSmart, I’ll take her in and we’ll get all the supplies she needs and a few more toy mice to replace the ones that are unaccounted for. After my truck is finally retired from service, and the shop is rotating it out of the fleet, I dare say that some mechanic will wonder about all these toy mice in my cab and where they came from.

I’ve also encountered my share of “cat haters” out here. I’ll never understand their pathological hatred of cats, but suffice it to say that their feelings put me at odds with them. There has never been a time when I haven’t stood my ground against them.

Our shops have kennel-cages so that drivers can keep their pets in a safe place while the mechanic is working on the truck. I placed Zoey in one of these cages once, against my better judgment. I needed a shower, and she had food and water and one of her blankets to keep her company while I left her there for a brief time. Twenty minutes later, I returned to catch another driver deliberately kicking the cage. He was yelling: “I hate cats, I hate cats!” I intervened quickly and told this driver in no uncertain terms, that his hatred of cats was about to earn him an extended stay at the local trauma center! He backed away quickly and I got Zoey out of there.

The Carrier I work for has been adamant that we use our enforcer trailer-door locks on every shipment. Cargo theft is a big problem in the industry. Good locks can prevent loss. One night I stopped in Arkansas for the night. Another one of our trucks backed in next to me. As he did, I noticed that he had a seal on his trailer, but no lock. Once he parked, he came over to talk for a while. We chatted and Zoey hopped up on my lap to see who our visitor was. He asked, “Do you keep the truck running when you’re away and she’s still in it?” I told him that on days like this, I couldn’t shut it off because it gets hot so quick, and she wears a fur coat year-round. This driver became indignant telling me this went against company policy and took away from his profit-sharing!

I explained, that if he bothered to read the handbook it said that you could leave the truck running for an animal’s comfort, when the cab’s temperature can go over 100 degrees in a matter of minutes. This was a matter of the animal’s survival. If it had only been me, I told him, I would sweat it out. He appeared to want to make an issue of this until I pointed out to him, his breaking of the rules. His trailer not being locked could be pilfered. That would cut deeply into my profit sharing! He left soon after, and the head office never called me in.

I’ve visited several businesses where pets are allowed. The majority of those pets were cats. I can’t help but notice that either at home or at work, the presence of pets induces an atmosphere of a calm and relaxed state of mind, giving strangers a common ground to begin a conversation and serving to break the ice, while putting people at ease. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen drivers at truck-stops walk by my truck, notice Zoey sitting on the dash and then stop while trying to decide if she was real or not. They start smiling when she moves. She also generates miles of smiles from other motorists who are keeping me company in traffic jams, and she pulls smiles out of security guards who sometimes even give her a friendly scratch on the chin.

There will always be people who feel that pets have no value at work or anywhere else for that matter. I’ve noticed these are people who are generally pretty miserable and nothing makes them happy. In an earlier article I stated, a pet policy wasn’t the primary reason I signed on with my present employer. But ever since Zoey has become part of my life, if I were to change jobs again, a pet policy would now be a primary consideration, for how this little kitten has grown into my heart! If worse came to worse and I couldn’t find a job where I could have my cat along, I’d buy my own truck or, I would get out of trucking. Because face it folks, this big, bad, bald-headed three-hundred-pound trucker is putty in the paws of this seven- pound, simply irresistible road cat!