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The Maine Coon
About Cheeptrills
Meet the Cats
Meet the People
Meet our Graduates (Some of the cats we've sold)
Finding a Kitten
Tips for Cat Owners
Our Sales Contract
Origins of the Maine Coon
Great Maines of the Past
Of Cats and Queens
The Rainbow Bridge

The Joy of Cats
Panic in the Night
Homecoming
Cats 'n' Consequences
On the Road
My First Show
For Better or Worse
Life in South Texas

...here we are, in spite of breakdowns, horrendous weather, and cat-fights, settled in Massachusetts with all cats and people reasonably intact and sane.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. We had to move from San Diego to Cambridge, MA, and we had two months before Mike had to sign in at Harvard, so why not make an extended road-trip of the move? You know, go where the whim takes you, stay off the interstates, explore the country, visit seldom-seen friends. Sounds good on the surface, but throw three Maine Coons into the equation and things get complicated...

First we had to decide what the cats would need on the trip. We settled on the bare minimum: three carriers with bedding and small litter boxes (we used aluminum foil baking pans), a water filter (so they wouldn't get tummy upsets from "alien" water), bottled water (just in case), a 20-pound bag of their usual food, dozens of cans of their wet food, two large litter boxes with extra liners, disinfectant, litter, dishes, bowls, scratching post, grooming and bathing supplies, dry shampoo, flea spray and powder, harnesses and leashes, antibiotics (oral and opthalmic), ear wash, diarrhea medicine, towels, paper towels, wet-wipes, packs of blue ice, dust-buster, dustpan, whisk broom, catnip, toys, and treats. Then we decided what we would need, which wasn't nearly so much.

The movers had come and gone with all our worldly goods (except for the cats, their stuff, us, our stuff, and several hundred pounds of extraneous stuff we didn't want to trust to the movers), and the cats had visited the vet for shots and health exams and had been pronounced in excellent shape, so we connected our CB's and piled into our two cars to begin our adventure. Mike got the sports car, the laptop computer with fax/modem (heaven forbid we should be off the information highway while on the asphalt one!), the printer, our clothes, the working car radio, and no cats; I got the 1984 Volvo station wagon (which overheats and has a maximum speed of 30 mph on hills), the non-functional car radio, the cats (emphatically proclaiming their dissatisfaction with the disruption of their quiet, happy lives), their stuff, our stuff, the extraneous stuff, and the litter boxes. Joy.

We spent the first couple of days visiting Karen and Steve McInchak (McInkats Maine Coons) in Monterey and trying to keep our cats from escaping our bedroom and getting into fights with their cats and dogs. There were several loud, rude exchanges between cats from opposite sides of the bedroom door. Karen and Steve's greyhounds added a bit of spice to the stew...

We left Monterey with the friendship, cats, and dogs still intact, stopped at San Luis Obispo to say good-by to our son who's attending college there, and filled with optimism and foolhardiness headed east over the mountains on the back roads. I let the cats out of their carriers and they began what was to become a routine: everyone had to use the litter box, which was on top of the huge pile of stuff in the back of the wagon. Then the cats had to get into a fight, then Button had to get under my feet, then Mandy had to get carsick and go into heat, then Silverado had to re-cover the litter-box deposits and scatter litter all over the back of the wagon, then they all had to fight again over who was going to get the desirable sleeping-spot on top of the bed pillows we can't travel without. All this while I was trying to negotiate dirt mountain roads. Not an auspicious beginning.

After a few days, however, the cats settled into a routine which maintained a reasonable level of peace. First they'd all use the litter box (to the amusement of people in other cars who honked and waved as they passed; it did, however, deter tailgaters), then Silverado got the passenger seat (after only a few fights over territory), Mandy got the pillows, and Button staggered around the car stepping on the other cats, knocking things (including the litter box) over, and yelling. (Button had a serious ear infection as a kitten which left her balance-impaired, deaf in her left ear, and a bit strange.) Meanwhile, Mike was in solitary splendor in the sports car with a working radio, a super-charged air conditioner, and no cats. At one point on the trip, I was on the CB screaming at him for getting me on a terrifying mountain road with an overloaded car and three obstreperous cats when I realized that, instead of the channel we had agreed upon, I was on channel 19 (the truckers' channel) yelling at a bunch of unknown, confused truck drivers. Oh, well.

Our first night on the road we discovered that many motels tend to take a dim view of pets. After trying several whose managers acted as though we were dangerous insurgents when we told them we had cats, we stopped telling them. Smuggling cats into motels takes a bit of finesse; one puts the litter box in a plastic bag, piles suitcases on top of the litter box, shoves as many cats as possible into one carrier, and covers the carrier with a towel. One hopes that the carrier isn't noisy enough to alert the manager. One also tries to explain to Button that it isn't necessary or desirable to discuss the fact that she's in a motel room in a loud, penetrating voice; persuade Mandy that she shouldn't sing raucous lovesongs to whatever tom might be in the area, and convince Silverado that there's nothing he wants beyond the closed motel room door so he needn't claw at it all night.

We did find motels that welcome pets, though, many of which we stayed in for two or more days. This brought up the question of cats escaping when maids entered the room for housekeeping. We made a sign for the door requesting "No Housekeeping, Please ... Kitties In Room." We also notified the maid service and the manager that we didn't wish housekeeping services because of the cats, and each day exchanged our wet towels for clean ones.

We left each motel room as pristine as we found it (more, in some cases). We kept the litter box in the tub or shower enclosure to minimize litter-scattering, used the dust-buster to get up each piece of litter and cat hair in the morning, and tied up dirty litter and cat food cans in plastic bags which we took to the dumpster. We also thanked the powers-that-be that we weren't traveling with a whole, spraying male.

(A note about spraying toms: A dear friend of mine once kept her American Shorthair male loose in her motel room's bathroom with my male Applejack in his oversized carrier. The two boys had a spraying contest all night and she was late to the show on Sunday morning because she'd spent over an hour trying to rid the bathroom of the odor of dueling studs. She had to pour the spray out of Applejack's carrier, and he arrived at the show stinking and greasy from spray. I used dry shampoo, grooming powder, and Joy perfume to clean him up. The layers of scent were overwhelming and I'm still convinced that they were what gave him his Grand - the judges finaled him to get off the circuit so they wouldn't have to experience anything that nasty again! If you travel with a spraying male, be sure to have a large cage in which to confine him. Put plastic under the cage and drape it behind and on the sides so you won't have to spend valuable time cleaning the room.)

Because I was traveling with loose cats in my car, Mike (in the lead) paid my fare at tollgates and ferries so I wouldn't have to open my window and risk a cat escaping. This works well when people are traveling in separate cars; if one is traveling alone I would advise against having cats loose in the car - a frightened cat could well bolt out of an open window or door with disastrous results.

One problem we encountered was what to do with the cats when we stopped to eat or explore. It was too hot to leave them in the car, and restaurants won't allow cats (how backward!). We became expert at convincing people at nearby hotels, motels, and shops to let the cats (in their carriers) stay in their lobbies or storerooms while we ate, and found that museum people and national park rangers were often happy to keep the cats in their offices while we visited attractions.

The trip proceeded along these lines until we arrived in Maine. There we found motels who loved cats! We'd stop at a motel, see a sign which said "No Pets," explain that we were traveling with cats, and the manager would say "Oh, cats are fine." We also found that Mainers are particularly fond of Maine Coon Cats; when we'd tell the managers that we had Maine Coons, they came out to the car to meet, admire, and exclaim over the cats. We were occasionally asked to give a deposit against possible cat-damage; we always agreed and always got our deposit back.

We hope that cleaning up after our cats may have encouraged motels to be more accepting of pets, and we encourage other traveling-with-pets people to do the same so that motel/hotel owners won't be so reluctant to welcome pets.

Towards the end of our trip we stayed with Jane Baldinger (Yankee Cats Maine Coons), and I had the honor of helping one of her queens deliver a litter. Nothing like holding a healthy, vigorous newborn kitten in your hands to encourage one to stay with the Fancy! The cats by this time were old hands at road-tripping and behaved impeccably (except they still insisted on using the litter box in the car each morning - why couldn't they do it before we left?). We had by this time put almost 10,000 miles on the cars and cats (yes, our trip was just a bit circuitous). We found that cats adjust well to traveling and enjoy exploring a new place each night, as long as one sees to their comfort and amusement. We made sure to provide them every comfort in the car (including beds, litter box, food, water, and toys), and to give them all lots of love, attention, and play-time at each stop. They grew to look forward to their evening "home for the night;" in fact, they'd all start yelling and prowling about the car at around 6:00 each evening, anticipating the motel and dinner. The only thing they really hated was being captured in the morning. We spent a lot of time dragging cats from under beds!

So here we are, 10,000 miles and a world of experiences later, all of us settled in Massachusetts. We found that cats can, with proper preparation and consideration on their peoples' part, enjoy long trips. The cats made friends all across the country, and added an extra dimension of interest and enjoyment to our cross-country move. They love their new, three-story house and were so happy to see all the familiar stuff when it was finally delivered. Mike keeps threatening to bring a carrier inside just to see what the cats will do, but I won't let him.

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