Since Husband’s parents live about three and a half hours south of us, driving is obviously our mode of transportation of choice. I mean, I can’t really think of any other options we’d have in the first place, so our preferences are pretty moot. We just drive there.
And every time we’ve driven there, aside from some mega boredom around hour two, when we feel as though we should be there already and are beginning to really disagree about the music (he wants Metallica, I want Fitz & the Tantrums), it’s a pretty good time. For starters, the speed limit is 80, which is really rad. 80 mph gets you places, let me tell you. 90 gets you even more places, even more faster I’m just saying.
But this year, we have a cat, and although we have found catsitters in the past, holidays leave us kind of scratching our heads. Does a person actually want to come to our cold condo on a major national holiday to scoop her poop? I mean, probably not, so why even bother. I offered up the idea to kennel her, but that seemed too traumatizing, so Husband determined the only thing we could do was put her in the car with us and drive down those three and a half hours, just us, our baby, and a litter box, to a house with three fully-grown adult Golden Retrievers, who, incidentally, hate cats.
I feel like there’s some major fallacy in our plan, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
I’m also all sorts of curious how our cat is going to feel about driving somewhere so far away (she was fine on the car ride from the clinic to our home, but then again, maybe she was just happy to be adopted). Husband says he’s absolutely fine with her having free reign and not keeping her in the kennel, which … heh. Yeah we’ll see. And will she notify us when she has to use the litter box? Or is she just going to surprise us because she can? And how enjoyable will the car ride be after she’s done so and our car smells like poop?
And here’s the real low point, people — this is simply a trial run FOR WHEN WE DRIVE TO OREGON FOR CHRISTMAS. Yes, Oregon, as in two states and fourteen hours away. I felt quite strongly that we should kennel her at that point (I’m not heartless, but I mean … come on), but Husband put his foot down and said, “You just want to be with your cat at Christmas.” If that’s not heartwarming, then I honestly do not know what is. And when he says stuff like that, I’m a puddle, and he can do whatever he wants. So, yeah, that’s apparently going to happen. In less than a month, we’re going to put our cat back in the car and drive fourteen hours to my parent’s house, and I’m pretty positive at some point she’s going to need to potty, and GOD HELP ME. Literally none of this seems like a good idea.
Also, as a completely unrelated aside, I believe I’ve suffered insomnia about five separate times since the inception of this blog, six if you count the past two weeks (and you should), and that seems like probably a medical issue. Because sometimes I sleep and it’s awesome, but sometimes I don’t sleep at all, and it’s the worst. Maybe we should get that checked out.