On the Road at Last

Well, we did it. Around mid-November my human and I closed the door on our
past lives. As you may recall, I am a very special tabby cat now living with my
human in what he calls a motor home (I call it a box on wheels). I’m writing about
our adventures together with a little help from my human (who’s really good at
using a keyboard).

Sometimes I get aggravated with him. A few days before we departed, I was just
minding my own business, coming downstairs from a nice nap to check out the
food bowl, when he grabbed me and stuffed me into a cage. Can you believe it?
I was madder than a wet hen (at least that’s what my human said). Before I knew
what was up, he had me in the car and driving down the road. You can bet I let
him know what I thought of that, but he just kept telling me to stop caterwauling.

As I suspected, he was taking me to see the cat doctor human, and after I met
her everything seemed to be OK. Apparently I needed some “shots,” whatever
that is. My human told me he also updated the contact information for something
called a “chip” that he said was stuck into my neck a few years ago. Wow, that was
news to me. The only kind of chips I’ve ever seen were made of potatoes, so I hope
it wasn’t one of those.

Anyway, he said it was to identify me if I should ever get lost. I don’t get that,
because I already know who I am and we cats are never lost.

I was pretty much upset again on the day we started to drive away from our
comfortable old house (much yowling, according to my human). I was convinced
he’d probably left my food bowl behind. But after he showed me where it was, I
settled down for the ride. I can tell you that I really don’t like riding in the box on
wheels. So I crawl under the seat while my human does the driving.

I sometimes think my human is a bit crazy. For example, when we passed
through someplace called Roswell, he told me that it was known for flying dishes.
At our next stop I checked the kitchen sink in our little box on wheels, but didn’t
see anything suspicious. Then my human told me it was saucers that fly, not plates
or cups, and since I didn’t see any saucers I guess they had already flown away.

Anyway, now we’re in Corpus Christi, Texas, and have a nice RV parking place
right on the shore, next to some palm trees. My human says we’re going to stay
here for the winter, and that’s good news, because frankly I was pretty tired of all
that bouncing around.

The day after we arrived, my human went someplace called the King Ranch,
where they put on a big Cowboy Breakfast. I wish I could have been there, but it
was apparently a humans-only event. Well, except for horses and cows and such.
No cats. My human told me he listened to some cowboy poetry, but he couldn’t
remember any of it. I guess it was something like, “Roses are Red, Violets Are Blue,
I’m a Cowboy and So Are You.”

‘Til next time. —Tiggy >^oo^<

My human was in about the same shape as me on Thanksgiving Day after a dinner put on at the RV park. My human says I eat better than he does, but I am not fat; those are my love handles.

David L. Brown is a writer and photographer who recently left Rio Rancho along with Tiggy the Cat to begin living the RV lifestyle. You can follow their adventures at: www.starphoenixbase.com, click on “Travels with Tiggy.” You can email Tiggy at david@dlbrown-inc.com.