Go Fish Galvez

And no Willys either, in beautiful (ahem) downtown Mountain Home, Idaho. Nope, it’s just me and Jeepers tonight.

Jeepers at the motel

That’s because Willys is now a (happy) new resident of the small little backwater community of LaGrande, Oregon. And I will personally guarantee that he’s absolutely thrilled to be there and not here with me and Jeepers, not in a cat carrier, not in the truck, not on the road. No, all that, I believe, was killing him.

After I was forced to place Willys back in the truck last night in a last-ditch attempt to get a little long-overdue rest for the drive ahead, I found him this morning in much the same state as I left him last night. Distraught. Ill-tempered. With patches of hair rubbed off from twisting and turning in fits inside the cat carrier. Now Willys was beginning to look, and smell, like he was stepping onto the path of a downward spiral.

So this morning I spent some extra time with Willys. I took him out of the cat carrier, brought him fresh food that he would not eat and fresh water that he would not drink. I slipped a collar and leash on him and took him out into the morning air, on a soft green lawn. But no matter what I tried, Willys would not be consoled, would not be comforted, would not relax. His constant loud wails and melancholy moans of the day before continued like clockwork, on the second, every second. And no matter the dosage of sedatives, he was merely slowed but never thwarted. His anxiety, measured by that thumping tail, was not diminished.

Fear is a powerful thing, especially in a small animal that can’t be made to understand that there’s nothing to fear. Even FDR wouldn’t have been able to get that message through to Willys.

So today I made a decision. I drove along until I came to a small rural town, where the neighborhoods looked folksy and Mayberry-like, with lots of surrounding open meadows and the occasional old barn probably rife with field mice. And I pulled over.

Here was a place where Willys would be happy. Once free again to roam at will, he would relax and return to his former self, the Willys I know and love, the sweet lithe little cat just happy to be someone’s loyal friend and tireless mouser.

So I held Willys close, gave him a big kiss on his (hard!) little noggin, and put him down on the good earth where he’s most at home. He didn’t run away immediately but stayed close by me for a few minutes. Then his feline curiosity took over as he sniffed the air, got his senses back, and slinked low along the ground, ears perked, eyes focused, alive again.

You’re a good boy, Willys, and I’ll miss you so. But I know you’ll be happier here.

So now it’s just me and the Jeepers. I can finally relax and get some sleep, and I can tell Jeepers has relaxed now, too, as Willys’ constant torment was a huge strain on both of us. In fact, so relaxed were we this evening that I put the collar and leash on Jeepers tonight and we went for a casual stroll around the, oh yes, The Hilander Motel. That would be beautiful (ahem) downtown Mountain Home, Idaho.

Actually, it is quite beautiful, in a vast, deserty kind of way.

And tomorrow? Why, we press on!