Not feeling too well….
Well, we got to Rome and now I have no garden, but I can gaze out the Doria Pamphili gallery and maybe one day they’ll take me there to see the kitties in all those paintings (there is always a kitty somewhere, next to a cardinal or some lady-in-waiting; and what’s she waiting for anyway—kitties slinking around the ankles of some ritzy guy in brocade pants…).
I found out too late on this crossing that there is a little tiny pill I can take…more on that later.
Well, a word to the kitties who use ships for travel. Don’t let ’em tell you that the ship is soooo big and modern that there will be noooooo motion—hah! I have never thrown up in my entire life and boy, that was a shocker, especially to mama, on whose chest I was sitting when the mal de mer hit me. That giant thing mama and papa take to Civitavecchia from Barcelona was rocking back and forth and forth and back and pretty soon—yeah, you guessed it. Organic no-preservative cat food that mama had just given me to get me settled (fortunately, only a spoon or two!) suddenly decorated the sheet AND blanket and, well, you can imagine the rest.
I was cooed over and petted and mama even wanted to give me Coca Cola (which she says can dissolve metal!) and mama was really, really worried about dehydration, but I only threw up once (well, twice, but there wasn’t much left to throw) and this wasn’t The Raft of the Medusa, for heaven’s sake, but I wanted LAND.
They called a vet from the ship when it docked in Porto Torres—that’s Sardinia—and the vet said to pull up my neck skin and it flopped right back so I was okay and then we got home to our apartment and I was right as rain (whatever that means—I hate rain) in a day.
Give me the car any day. They don’t go bump in the night or rock up and down, plus I like the pit stops every now and then and on a ship, man, you do NOT have those….
The sea calmed down the next day but I’m wearin’ my seasick bracelets next time!
