Go Fish Galvez

Reporting in from central Utah, specifically, the little town of Price, the beginning of the spectacular canyons of southern Utah. Breathtaking!

This is one of the most awe-inspiring landscapes I have ever beheld. Sure wish I could take the scenic tour of Bryce Canyon and see it all again but time—and kitty concerns—just don’t permit this trip, alas.

Speaking of my little black boy, we had a “moment” in the truck today, and it didn’t smell so good. Gad.

Jeepers may very well be the only cat in the entire world that doesn’t know what to do with, or in, a litter box. No idea. The concept is seemingly not in his repertoire. I’ve put him in it, I’ve taken his right paw (and left) and showed him how to dig in it, and still the litter is pristine enough that I could return it to the store for a full refund.

Days have gone by—remember, we started this journey on Saturday afternoon—and no piddle nor poop from the Peepers since. So when he started singing to me today as we flew down the highway (unusual for him), I was afraid something might be up. I pulled off the highway, found a nice shady spot under a tree, put the collar and leash on him, and set him down on the ground. Of course, there was only grass there, not the dirt I’m sure he would have preferred had he been interested in the first place. Unfortunately, however, he was only interested in looking around and sniffing the air. He gave me no sign that what he really wanted was “to go.” Hmmm.

Well, then, I decided maybe he was just singing a song because he didn’t really want to be in the cat carrier at that moment, having spent a leisurely evening the night before roaming The Hilander Motel room at will. I wrote it off to simple feline complaint, stuffed a happy pill down his wee little throat, and off again we went.

Back on the highway, he sang to me a little while longer and then it was off to sleepytime for the Jeepers. We rode along for quite some time without incident and then suddenly he woke up, moved to the far end of the cat carrier (the more elevated end, as the carrier sits on the seat), and started crying. And then a pungent aroma began to fill the cab. I looked down in a panic and through the ventilation holes in the carrier I could see the foul pond, with Jeepers struggling to stay out of it and weeping all the while. Eek!

Poor Jeepers.

At the first possible opportunity, I exited the highway, pulled over, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and attacked the Superfund cleanup. Got him cleaned up, the cat carrier cleaned up, and then we were back on the road again. This on-again off-again highway stuff can sure eat up the day!

So, here we are at the National 9 Inn in Price, Utah tonight, where, with a greater sense of urgency, I have conducted yet another round of litter box lessons, all to no avail. I’ve even harnessed up the boy and taken him outside but have thus far been unable to persuade him to cavetch a little present for the local Mormons. Damn.

Guess I’ll have a little excitement to look forward to tomorrow…

And you thought this was gonna be a travelogue about driving across America! No, friends, it’s Feline Psychology/Physiology 101. There will be a test!