Katzenwagen! − 20 March, 2008
Sometimes, despite your best intentions, things don't quite work out like you expect...
For once I was going to be on time for something. No, I was going to be EARLY. Although I wasn't looking forward to three hours of education on the proper ways of eating (thanks to my physician), I had successfully navigated Ganesh through rush hour traffic and a stiff crosswind; making good time in the process. With only a couple of miles to go, there was nothing to do, but sit through umpteen PowerPoint slides extolling the virtues of portion control.
The Lizard King was wrapping up "Roadhouse Blues" on the iPod when I felt something brush by my leg. A stray piece of trash picked up by the drafts which are part and parcel of a 36-year-old bus, nothing more. Keeping my eyes on the approaching offramp, I reached down to scoop up the offender. I expected paper...I got fur. My focus quickly turned to the floorboard and the large orange cat looking up at me with a rather bewildered air. Not panicked, as most felines are in moving vehicles. Disdainfully curious, I guess you'd call it.
Deep within his cerebellum, somewhere between the impulse to eat and the need to stick his nose into anything that his butt would fit into, Morris sensed something was wrong...VERY wrong. The normally quiet confines of his occasional sleeping quarters had been turned into a roaring, vibrating (and drafty) place indeed. Some days it just doesn't pay to be a cat.
Recovering from my initial shock, I burst into a fit of laughter. Who cares if I'm late for class? That would be nothing new. Besides, how often to you get to ride around town with a big orange cat in a 1972 VW bus? Thoroughly flummoxed by the turn of events and my reaction, Morris curled up in the isle between the front seats and waited for the show to be over.
As I turned the bus around and headed for home, the haunting sound of Poe filled the cabin...
"Hey pretty, do you want to take a ride with me..."
No. Definitely not. Just fill the water bowl, feed me and empty the litter box.
