Teach a cat to fish

At age 15, my beloved cat, King Carnivore, is probably a little too old to be relocated half way around the world. So my dear friend Lois agreed to add her to her own two-cat household while I was away. Having proved her portability on a camping trip earlier this summer, King was invited to join Lois and her husband, Darin, on another trip into the great outdoors. The destination this time was the "garlodge" (that is, a feature of northern Wisconsin architecture in which a garage functions as a lodge) of Lois' sister, Linda, and her husband, Jeff. Lois' very entertaining account of King's adventures follows. (Below: This is King curled up with a tackle box on her first fishing adventure.)



Lois writes:

If there was ever a cat cut out to be an ambassador, it's King. She's not afraid to go to new and different places, she seems to be inured to the difficulties and/or boredom of travel (sleeping is her favorite remedy), she makes friends easily (Linda and Jeff, this time). In short, according to Darin, she's just like you! Except for one aborted escape attempt behind the Thorpedo Restaurant when we were seeing if she'd take a potty break in the her box in the back of the truck, we had no troubles whatsoever.

We did broaden her horizons on this trip in a couple of ways. First, we've given her retail experience, and not in the way you think. As a surprise to Darin, I scheduled an appointment at Toys for Trucks (yes, a "guy" truck accessory store) to have them install a tonneau cover on the back of the truck so that he could get the secure, weather-proof storage he's been pining for before we trekked yet again across the state with our weekend goods out there for all the world to see. This required the truck without us in it for half an hour. I asked if I could just stay in the truck in their shop, as I was traveling with a cat. He said, "You're more than welcome to bring her in here ... we get guys bringing their dogs in all the time." I shrugged and complied. King handled it like a pro. She sat in her bed in my lap in the waiting area next to the Outdoor Life and American Hunter magazines (two things she's big into) until she tired of the view. Then she wriggled out of my grasp and went on walkabout. Darin did stop her from going back into the office, but otherwise she checked out displays of wheel covers, tonneau covers, etc. On a side note, her full name came in handy in introductions to the staff. It amused me to increase the machismo level of bringing a cat into the world of men and dogs by introducing her as "King Carnivore"!

By our last evening, Jeff had decided she was pretty cool, and had even reintroduced the topic of getting a cat for Linda. We decided to spend the time after a late dinner fishing on the dock. I decided that King had seen everything else, so I thought, "What the hell! Teach at cat to fish ... or at least let her watch." I brought her on a makeshift leash down the 70 steps to the dock. Everyone was sitting on the pontoon since it provided fish cover and had the only seats, so I joined them, figuring the solid, carpeted floor would be less disconcerting than a slatted dock. After 10 or 15 minutes without any luck, Jeff said, "Should we take the boat out for a cruise?" I reminded him that we did have a feline companion about whom a week ago he said would have to stay in the "garlodge" when we took the boat out. He wasn't concerned at all, and King didn't appear to be either, so she is now the first cat of my acquaintance to have gone pontooning! She again handled it like a pro, keeping her sea legs under her and even "helping" a little with piloting. Matter of face, the only fear she showed all weekend was when Darin shot across the room to stop her from scooting her butt across Linda and Jeff's sleeping bag. After she heard "King, no!" and saw him descending on her, she tucked herself quickly under the bed, but came out with some reassurance from him that she wasn't in big trouble.

Now she's back home again, and we're picking up where we left off with developing kitty detente in our house. There's a little less hissing (although still a lot of staring), and King has been allowed by Xan [Editor: One of Lois’ cats] to spend a few hours in the "playpen" (deck, that is). Do you really need her back? ;-)

What's next for King -- sky-diving?