You might be a redneck if… You put your cats in cardboard boxes for their yearly trip to the vet.
We might be rednecks. I really didn’t see a need for a fancy cat carrier. I might now.
We have two cats. Sweet pets as far as the kids are concerned, mighty rodent and snake hunting defenders as far as I am concerned. Our kitties live outside. They have access to our barn, our back porch, and a dangerous spot on the front porch welcome mat (I nearly step on them every time I go out). They are cute cats, well loved and slightly over-fed.
Yesterday was the annual trip to the vet for shots. This annual need for shots is, quite frankly, news to me. I lived on a farm growing up. Cats came and cats went. Mostly, cats caught mice and rats and any number of things that I didn’t want to find in the animal feed or in the house. Having cats as “pets” is a fairly new thing for me.
So, I figured that putting them in cardboard boxes for the trip made sense. It’s not like we do this regularly. Why buy a fancy carrier?
So, into two large diaper boxes they went. We folded the tops and taped the top of “Cutie’s” box shut. She’s kinda spastic. Neurotic…. Yeah. We didn’t bother to tape “Butterup’s” box because he is the most laid back and well behaved cat in the world. Mistake. Big mistake.
Eric loaded the cats and my oldest daughter into the van and set off to the vet’s office. Minutes later, he returned home parking the van sideways in front of the garage. I knew something was wrong, I just would never have guessed what it was.
It seems that my nice, calm “Butterup” decided to exit his box shortly after Eric started the van. No big deal, right? Wrong.
That crazy cat climbed up on the passenger seat and put his paws on the door so he could look out like a dog does on car rides. His paw hit the button that lowers the window. Seeing his opportunity for freedom, “Butterup” jumped. Luckily, Eric had just turned onto the busy highway and was only doing 30 mph or so. But the kitty was nowhere to be found.
Mary was crying. “Cutie” was beside herself with anxiety. Cats can have anxiety attacks… At least “Cutie” can.
I had four sad littles in the house with a neurotic cat and a husband out walking the highway looking for a possibly maimed or dead cat. So I did what any crazy momma does.
I called the neighbors to alert them to the reason my husband was poking around their barns and yards and then put on my boots and started to search areas near the house just in case the crazy cat had made it back. I had to stay close in case the kids needed me.
The chickens joined in the search. Well, not really. It seems that hearing me call for “Butterup” sounds just like I am calling them for some yummy corn. I was trying to fend them off when I saw Eric carrying a big ole ball of fur back to our yard.
I expected the worst.
Not a scratch. That crazy cat jumped from a moving vehicle on a busy highway without getting the smallest little scratch.
But he is getting one thing. A real cat carrier.