We’ve done some pretty big moves with the cats before. The move from Charleston, SC to Hendersonville, NC was a fun one, particularly when we made the mistake of giving them drugs that caused them to hallucinate and attempt to kill one another once they got out of the carriers. The move from Asheville to Hilton Head was memorable because it was the longest one so far and also a pretty loud one. We opted not to do the drugs, so the cats had a lot to say about that and I was verging on crazy by the time I finally pulled into our new driveway in South Carolina.
We’ve never had a move like this one though. Not even close. In this one, we piled all six buddies into a LearJet 35 and toted them clear across the Caribbean Sea to Juan Santamaria International Airport in San Jose, Costa Rica. All of them got Gabapentin, and it worked pretty well for most of them, except Maynard, who stubbornly refused to be affected by it and instead screamed at the top of his lungs that he Was. Not. Amused.
After we piled out of the plane looking like the Clampetts Come to Costa Rica with our 3000 bags and 6 cats in tow, we went through Costa Rican customs. Because we flew private (which was a long story in and of itself, and nowhere close to our normal method of travel, but you try taking six cats out of carriers in a busy airport to walk through the metal detector and then have to try to keep them calm while you’re waiting for the next plane in the Atlanta airport), our customs was very smooth, quiet and tranquil. Six little carriers sat in two neat rows while the customs employees worked, and the cats all patiently waited to see what crazy thing was going to happen next. Meanwhile, one customs baggage guy and one customs police officer both giddily grinned from ear to ear as they cooed to the cats, and the baggage guy got down on his hands and knees to reach inside the carriers to say hi. I think it made their whole day to see our funny little crew. Their kindness and openness to the situation was a joy to experience.
Then, we were met at the door by our friend Ricardo, who is a naturalist and also is a professional tour bus driver. He gallantly waited for us for over three hours at the airport, since our plane was delayed by fog and had to make a refueling stop. We piled the cats into his bus, and I got behind the wheel of our new 4-wheel drive car along with Maynard, who needed extra attention and probably didn’t need to start a chain reaction of howls in the bus. Sean stayed with the other five and Ricardo. Originally, we were supposed to be at the airport at 11:30am local time, which would have been a pretty good time to avoid most of the traffic. Instead, we ended up getting in after 3:00pm, and Ricardo warned us that a normally 3 hour, 15 minute trip was probably going to end up being closer to 4 and a half.
Suffice it to say that by the time we got home, it was after 7:30pm Central Standard, and the cats had been in their carriers for a whopping 12 hours. I switched off with Sean for about the last hour and a half because it was getting dark and I have trouble seeing to drive at night. The five cats that weren’t Maynard had been pretty quiet most of the trip until the last ten minutes or so as we were making the 1100 foot climb up the mountain to our new home. I don’t know if it was the altitude change or the fact that only two of them (Zelda and Cooper) had ever been in the mountains, or the fact that nobody had eaten or gone potty or had anything to drink for many, many hours, but all of a sudden it was like a conductor had tapped his baton and started the symphony of “Caterwaul in G:” all of them started meowing simultaneously, some of them in stereo.
So, that was our first day getting here, and we’ve had seven days since. I’ll try to get you all caught up on those days as soon as possible, but right now Maynard is yelling at me to pet him/play with him/feed him/all of the above.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
(Photos below: 1-Our ride, 2-Packed like sardines, 3-Our intrepid pilots)
