Tag: cats

There are a lot of things I wish someone else had told me about flying with cats. So here, I’ll tell you. Bookmark this shit. Spread it around.

There’s basically one and only one kind of pet carrier that you can get for this. They’re called Sherpas, and they’re pretty nice. Just buy them now and save yourself the looking.

Don’t put your cats in checked baggage. Just don’t. Ever.

Pick up their food 12 hours before, and their water about 6 hours before; or at least that’s what my vet recommended.

You may think you’ll be able to just sedate your cat. You’re wrong. While your vet will probably be willing to prescribe you something to calm your cat down, it’s not going to knock them out. Our vet gave us Xanax, which had the hilarious effect of making both of the cats stagger around like drunken, boneless frat boys. I recommend you be prepared to take some videos, because there is not much funnier than watching a cat fall off a windowsill.

Drugs make them easier to get into the cat carrier, but do not guarantee they’ll sleep, or even that they’ll be quiet. Even with half a milligram of Xanax aboard, Tengu was more than capable of airing every grievance he’d ever had, and loudly, in the plane cabin.

However, since the cats go under the seat and there’s a lot of background noise, not many people can actually hear them, which is the only saving grace. And if you’re really lucky, you’ll be on a flight with a baby and everyone will be too annoyed by that howling to notice the feline protests. So don’t worry too much about meowing. Constantly trying to talk to the cat is probably not going to make them any quieter and will annoy the people around you more (or at least the one weirdo not wearing headphones). Just do your best to ignore them.

I had people recommend Rescue Remedy to me. I took a look at it; it’s a homeopathic remedy with alcohol listed as its inactive ingredient. Maybe that’s what actually makes it work. Personally, I stuck with the Xanax.

For you personally, I’d recommend the application of two beers about an hour prior to your flight.

There’s another reason to want the cats to be on some kind of pharmaceutical to smooth them out. That’s because of:

THE SECURITY CHECKPOINT

We tried looking at the TSA website and even calling the airport ahead of time. They do not tell you this shit, and they should. It’s more excitement than I want to have at the airport.

You have to take your cat out of the carrier at security.

No, I am not joking. If you are smart, you will take the time before travel to get them used to a harness and then you can have them on a leash. (And hey, then you can take them for walks and let them frolic on the lawn later and it’ll be adorable.)

Not only do you have to take them out of the carrier, you have to carry a terrified animal through the metal detector, then basically sit on them for an extended period of time immediately on the other side. Where you will wait for someone to come swab your hands for – I don’t know, explosives? cat pee? catnip? – one at a time. Which means you need to have to be able to manage your cat one handed, because they will have to swab both of your hands.

Then you wait some more, sitting on your scruffed and upset cat, while the swab processes. You are not allowed to put the cat back into the carrier until you have the all clear. You’re not allowed to get assistance with keeping the cat from fleeing by anyone, except if you’re lucky, a friendly TSA agent who doesn’t have a good self-preservative instinct.

This is where drugging the cats paid off. I have no idea if they would have made more or less noise with the Xanax. But I know they sure as hell couldn’t fight me as much when I had to restrain them on the other side of the checkpoint.

Oh yeah, for bonus, you can’t wrap the cat in a blanket going through the metal detector. So make sure you trim their claws the night before if you possibly can. (And recall, you’re not allowed to wear a sweatshirt, coat, or shark suit either, so you’re SOL there.)

I really, really wish someone had told me this shit before I went through security.

Since I’m going to be flying to Houston with the cats on Thursday, I went to the vet and asked for some kind of sedative for the poor guys. He prescribed Xanax, and suggested that we test it out on them a few days early, just to see if the dose was right and make sure my pilling technique was up to par. I managed to get the pills into the cats without any blood being spilled, and fifteen minutes later, things started getting a little silly.

They didn’t lay down and fall asleep. They just became incredibly uncoordinated and playful. Tengu got fixated on a hook hanging from the ceiling and we had to put him in his cat carrier because we were worried he’d hurt himself, trying to jump for it. It also made Loki release so absolutely choking cat farts. They should put that on the warning label. Well, I guess that’s the feline equivalent of being “loosened up.” Here’s hoping that’ll equate to less shrieking on the airplane.

The cats are still waddling around like drunken frat boys even now.

This is not a happy kitty.

The kitties went to the vet today for their annual checkup. Or rather, I took them to the vet, because it’s not like they were just going to hop in the car and drive themselves over there.

Tengu has gotten wise to my normal trick of leaving the carriers out and open, then luring the cats inside at the appropriate time. I ended up having to corner him in my bedroom and stuff him into the carrier. However, Tengu also got a Gold Star from the vet for being in a fine example of a cat his age and in perfect health. It was apparently the only gold star the vet had given out all day.

Loki, on the other hand. Loki. There was screaming and growling and hissing and spitting. There were one or two swipes at the vet, though he didn’t seem to have his claws out for it. They had to try to wrap him in a blanket, he was being so bad. And there was no way in hell he was going to quietly let the vet look at his ears, which he’s still having problems with. So he got a jab in the butt (plus hissing, spitting, and snarling) with some sedatives.

And he fought the sedation the whole time. He’s still fighting it now. This cat will not just go to sleep. I always knew Loki was stubborn, but this is a whole new level of Fuck You I Ain’t Gonna And You Can’t Make Me. At home, Loki is slowly wobbling around like a drunk, and every time he looks like he’s going to fall asleep he gets up and wobbles around some more. I was trying to just keep him in my bedroom to start with, but then he just would not stop trying to get up on the windowsill, even after I had to rescue him because he almost fell off. I think I’ve got him contented with a sunbeam coming through the patio door now. Maybe.

And he keeps glaring at me with this eyes barely open and his nictating membrane at half mast, which is both hilarious and creepy at the same time. It’s a look that promises there will be hell to pay, just as soon as there’s just one of me instead of seven or eight wobbling around his field of view.

However, all of this did have a good purpose. It turns out the ear problems he’s been having for years are because he has ear mites. A weird, asymptomatic case of ear mites. Because the gunk coming out of his ears doesn’t look like ear mite gunk, and he’s never given them to Tengu despite the fact that they’re very contagious and Tengu will not leave his ears alone, yet Loki’s ears are just crawling with mites. Bizarre. And the vet also said ear mites tends to be a young cat thing, and a farm cat thing, so maybe Loki got them before I picked him up (since he was born on a farm if memory serves) and has just had them ever since. Either way, I’ve got a treatment for him, so hopefully that means his ears will clear up and we won’t have to go through this drama with him again.

Hopefully. Next time they go to the vet, it’s for vaccinations, so there may be more of the good drugs in his future.

Loki would like to know: Got any fours?

You may recall that back in July, Isaac helped me get a cat out of a tree. I tried to shove the poor, frightened animal into a carrier then, and it escaped. I kept an eye out for the cat after that, and thought I might have seen it a couple of times, but it was always far too wary.

A week ago, the kids that live next door told me there was a cat, hiding under one of the cars in our parking lot. It was the same cat. It was wary, frightened, skittish, but it also wasn’t running away like it had been. I went inside and grabbed a bowl of cat food. Despite the fear, despite the little kids that were trying desperately to help and in reality only getting in the way and scaring the poor thing more, it came out from under the car and started eating. And eating. One of the kids went and got it a bowl of water, and it sucked half the water down.

The cat was the same one Isaac helped me get out of the tree. It was also rail thin, with big awkward feet that would have been white if its fur weren’t so filthy. After it sucked down one bowl of food, the cat let me pet it, and even managed a rusty, uncertain purr and a sad, squeaky little meow.

Mike wasn’t that happy when I dragged him outside to see the cat. He’s always been more pragmatic than me. I was all for dragging the little cat into our house right that instant. He pointed out that it might have FIV, or feline leukemia, or fleas, or who knows what else. But he also knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep, just leaving the little one outside. My next door neighbor was in the same situation; she has two other cats as well, and he husband wouldn’t have been happy to suddenly acquire a third.

So Mike and I made a deal; we’d take the cat to the emergency vet, have it checked out, and then we could keep it overnight in the spare room so I could take it to the shelter the next day.

The cat turned out to be a she, was 6-8 months old, and got a clean bill of health other than being incredibly thin – just six pounds. We sat in the chilly exam room while the vet took the cat to the back room to the quick tests for FIV and leukemia, and I sent a text message to Evan, one of my fellow grad students. He’d mentioned that he wanted a cat. I told him that I’d found one, and the first thing he asked was, “Aw, is she cute?”

For the last week, she’s been living in my spare room. I’ve spent time with her every morning, and when I come home, and before I go to bed. She has a purr twice as big as her body, and a meow like a rusty gate. I’ve been just calling her Squeaker. She’s sweet and loving, but also skittish; it’s not hard to imagine how hard her life must have been up until now. She loves to be petted, to lean against my leg and purr. She doesn’t know quite how to play right with humans, and gets a little bitey. I’m glad that Evan decided to take her. After just a day, I don’t think I could have taken her to a shelter. But I can let her go to a good home.

Evan’s going to make a good dad for a skinny little cat that needs a lot of love. He decided to name her Shiraz (hopefully I spelled that right). When he loaded her into his car a couple of hours ago, she was wailing and carrying on. It’s hard, not being able to explain to someone that their life is about to get better, so much better.

So tonight the cat we dragged out of a tree four months ago went to her forever home. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m already missing her, but the two brats are already much happier without another cat lurking behind a closed door. I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit I was crying, just a little, right now. But I think I’ll get to see her again soon, in her new home.

I don’t think that second chances in life are all that uncommon. They happen all the time, little opportunities to correct mistakes or backtrack on bad decisions. But I also think that the second chance to save a life, even a small, humble life, doesn’t come around all that often.

Tengu would like to take this opportunity to remind you that he, too, is freakishly adorable.

Not much going on at the moment; it’s been a very busy week, but not in what could be even broadly defined as an interesting way. I did have an interview with ExxonMobil earlier this week, but I’d like to hold off saying anything about that until I know if the super exciting possibility with them comes true.

So yes. Kittens.

Example provided:

QED, bitches¹.

1 – Post not actually about fluffy kittens. Void where prohibited.