As some of you may know, I had two sister cats (different than ‘sister wives’) when I got Charlie. I went to pick him up in a snow storm and the 30 mile drive took an hour. I recall having to hit the brakes once and Charlie took a header into the console.  Obviously there are various stories regarding almost losing Charlie, but that was the first. The scary drive, cumulating into an overly excited dog running into the house and meeting the cats, I didn’t think this was going to turn out well.

When Fatty died, Skinny had never warmed up to Charlie so I ended up getting one week old Coco (a Manx, who at a week old, Charlie thought was awesome!) from a farm by Forest Lake. I figured a week old kitten would not be a threat and perhaps some maternal instincts would kick in for Skinny. Um, no…

Coco terrorized Skinny until her death and then threw her time and energy into messing with Charlie. One of her favorite things to do was steal his bed. If he wasn’t on the bed, she’d go lay in the middle, but if he was on the bed, she’d go lay on the edge. Neither of which he appreciated.

It has been two weeks since Charlie’s passing, but since day 1, Coco has been going over and laying on the edge of the bed. After a week of her doing this, and making sure my mind wasn’t just playing tricks on me, I figured I would need to get her a buddy. Somebody she could mess with and perhaps not be so lonely. I found a Manx kitten, in of all places, the Humane Society in Forest Lake/Wyoming. Manx cats are not common, so I figured this kitten was probably a relative, so I had to go get her.

I had never been to this shelter before, but I left work in St. Paul at about 4:45 last Tuesday and decided I would take 35 to an exit for Forest Lake. The shelter closes at 6:00, but I thought worst case scenario, I would at least find the place. Sure enough, I find it, but I really have no freaking idea where in the heck I am.  I kind of thought all of it was a ‘Dog’ thing. Manx, female kitten, from the area where I got Coco, and I’m able to find it and get there by 5:30. So I buy her, but didn’t bring the cage with me, so have to buy one of those cardboard cages with the little air holes.

I see a sign that says “Manning Trl detour” and I know Manning will get me back to Stillwater. I’m on a back road I’ve never been on, at dusk, looking at my Pinto compass to make sure I’m heading south, with a kitten now crying, who I can’t comfort because the card board box isn’t conducive to comforting.  I am doing about 55-60 mph and I see a stop sign, but by the time I see it, I’m airborne and there is no longer a road in front of me. I hit the ground, but I’m in a ditch, heading towards trees, but the ditch isn’t flat, it’s at a 60-70 degree angle and I’m about to flip. The Pinto finally comes to a rest, but I’m at such an angle that I’m scared to move. The kitten, who had been crying is now silent as the box slammed into the dashboard. A man comes running to the car, so I roll down the window. “Are you okay?” Of course my response “I don’t know where I am.” I then realize that is a stupid response and follow it up with “I mean I’m lucid, but I really don’t know where I am.” Trying my best to explain that I am Rain Man, an excellent driver, just got a kitten from the humane society, etc. as more and more people keep coming to the car “I thought for sure you were going to flip!” “I missed you by inches!” “Did you hit your head?” “Do we need to call an ambulance?” I am bombarded by people, and am completely embarrassed. I had ran a stop sign at highway 97 during rush hour which is an absolute cluster mess of cars speeding to get home (whom do not have a stop sign). I do recall cars spinning out of the way in my peripheral, but I was a little preoccupied with the whole airborne/lack of road phenomena to totally appreciate the fact that I could have killed people.

Due to being in the driver’s seat, upright, I wasn’t as freaked out as I have been in other near death experiences. Just really, really embarrassed. I couldn’t get out of the ditch, but the original man on the scene helped. It was difficult to get back onto 97 because of the shear amount of traffic (I wasn’t going to take Manning now, due to the whole ‘perilous’ drive, but the difficulty showed me how close I was to death) and I took it to 95. I’m doing to speed limit, hyper vigilant of the conditions and when I get to Square Lake Trail, sure enough, there is a deer, running across the highway. Fudge! I hit the brakes and the kitten hits the dashboard again and goes silent. I miss the deer, but barely.

I am reminded of the trip home with Charlie, glad that he wasn’t in the car for this trip (he helped pick up Coco with me), but also sad, because he would have loved her! Coco, our brave cat, was not receptive to the new kitten. I thought she would attack her, yet instead hid. She is getting better, but the kitten is so much like her and antagonizes her, then flops down all submissive. I can tell her and Charlie would have gotten along great.

I scheduled a wellness exam and put her in the regular cage. She was completely awesome, no crying, no freaking out. Really liked the ride to the vet. I picked up Charlie’s ashes while I was there and he took his final car ride home, next to KC. She got her name by KC being short for Kitty Cat and because Mr. VQ used to call Charlie ‘Big C!” and it is an homage to him. He was always my co captain, copilot, first mate, etc. in the car. I have now taken KC on a few rides and until she realizes she’s a cat, will continue to take her on the rides.

Monkeybutt cats rule!