Well, I’m going to be left here with the nice lady who snuggles me and loves me and give gives me little pieces of her fish and to hell with the anthros who abandon me here while going off to parts unknown where people wear spurs and large head coverings and boots and eat a lot of tacos and barbeque and snakes rattle around in the grass out the country.
Mama does not like to fly. Well, she does, and she doesn’t. Let’s just say she is a wuss and of course, the more she flies, the easier it is, but it has been a long time between flights for her and papa. She went up once in a P 51 with a pilot straight out of central casting, 1930s scarf and goggles and all, and that was really something. That little sucker took off straight up like a cat out of hell and they flew out over Malibu along the coast and circled around Century City and she had no problem with that, not one minute. Maybe because the pilot was right in front of her!
Still…one has to cover long distances and see family and her brother and sis-in-law and nephew and cousins and friends…anthro families are just too far apart for comfort most of the time. Maybe next time they’ll take me, but I already have trouble with large ships–I’m not so sure about being under a seat for 10 hours with no litter…no, no, no.
I’m really going to miss my snuggles between the knees, but my cat-sitter has nice knees, too…hmmm.
Just remember, mama and papa, not to get too taken with wherever it is you’re going and forget that I’M here, tapping my paw.
You know what they say in that big old land that tries to seduce you around every corner: Big hat, no cattle.
Or was it, Big hat, no kitties?
