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2 january 2001 |
broadsided I spent the end of 2000 in tears. I was leaving town for the New Year's weekend. Unfortunately, so did all of my friends who would be able to keep Wilma. I was in a quandary--am I a bad mommy who leaves town without kitty, or am I an over-attached guilt freak who will forsake all for her cat? Bad mommy. Actually, I came down to the wire on this one. I couldn't take her on this long trip, but I was damned if I'd leave her at a run-of-the-mill boarding facility. I dug out the Yellow Pages and looked under "spoiled cat vacation villas". Nothing. I searched the Internet for "overindulged kitty cruise package adventure". Again, nada. It looked like it was going to be me, Wilma, Dick Clark, and a six-pack of Harps. Which was fine, as long as I could find a hat for Wilma. At the last minute, however, I located a possibility--Best Friends Bed and Biscuit in Greensboro, NC. A deluxe boarding and vacation pet pad, they advertised Kitty Condos and lots of time in their spacious sun room. Wilma was a-going on holiday. I called the Bed and Biscuit to make a reservation, and they had plenty of room for my fuzzy little daughter...I mean, cat. They sounded happy to have her, and I got to packing her little suitcase. Let's see, there was food, three bags of treats, several toys, her little denim jumpsuit in case of cold, catnip, and a photo of me and her to decorate. Yep, Wilma was ready to go, and I was feeling a little less guilty. A little. So we piled into the car on her big day, but not before plenty of playtime and lunch. She seemed okay for most of the trip, without too much dissatisfied mewling. For the most part, she sat under her seatbelt and looked out the window. One mile before we arrived, however, Wilma started acting most unWilma-like. She was getting downright loud and insistent. Suddenly, I saw her head start to heave, and her lunch returned for an encore. Wilma was carsick. And there was no going back on my plans now. I pulled to the side of the road to clean her (and me) up, and learned that cat goopy isn't too gross. She seemed fine after that, though, all nuzzly and happy now that the offending meow mix was gone. Now I wanted to upchuck. I was a wreck. By the time we got to the Bed and Biscuit, I needed sunroom time way worse than any cat. And I was heartbroken, leaving my little girl with strangers after being sick. They were super-friendly, though, and settled her in nicely. I still didn't feel any better. I slumped back into my car, got onto the highway, and cried most of the way home. Surely she would put ME up for adoption now. Is this a toned-down version of what new parents endure when they leave their kids with the first sitter? If so, ouch. Now, of course, I know that they make kitty-sized Dramamine. I'll give her some on our next long trip. And next time it won't be on separate vacations. I wonder how she might like the beach this spring... |