pt 20; The day I lost my cat Jaggie-Boo-Boos
Leaving the park without her was agony. My heart felt like it had been put through a shredder. For 12 years, she’d been my constant companion, my shadow. I felt like I’d failed her......
After spending what felt like a small eternity in Cherry Hill RV Park, it was time to hit the road. We had a mission to get to Florida. The RV was packed, the cats were presumably secure, and we were ready to go. Or so I thought. Just as we were about to leave, the unthinkable happened: I couldn’t find my cat Jagster.
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Now, Jagster isn’t just Jagster. She’s Jaggies when she’s feeling playful, a sharp-toned “JAGSTER!” from me when she’s on the kitchen counter or going for the faucet, and Jaggie-Boo-Boos in moments of inexplicable whimsy. Her name depends entirely on mine and her mood, but she responds to them all because she’s brilliant like that. Zazu, on the other hand, only has one name, it’s just the tone that changes, and he responds accordingly. But, this day, Jagster. She was gone. Vanished. My heart stopped. My mind froze.
We searched everywhere. Every nook, every cranny. It was like she had Houdini-ed herself out of existence. As we reluctantly prepared to leave the park, I felt this overwhelming pang of shame and guilt. As we pulled out of our site and crept down the road, I had Ernie pull over so I could have one more walk around, shaking a bag of treats like a crazy cat lady, calling out her many affectionate names in the hope she’d hear me and emerge. With every shake of the bag, my brain conjured hopeful images of her peeking out from behind a bush or under a car. But alas, nothing. My heart sank so low, I had never experienced anything like it. I felt lost, hopeless, and guilty for not being a better parent. Ernie assured me she was in the coach hiding somewhere, but my years as preschool teacher had me wanting to count heads.
Leaving the park without her was agony. My heart felt like it had been put through a shredder. For 12 years, she’d been my constant companion, my shadow. I felt like I’d failed her. I had failed to protect her. And as we drove away, all I could imagine was her chasing after us, her tiny paws pounding the pavement, crying out for a family that couldn’t hear her. The guilt was suffocating. I whispered prayers for her safety and begged the universe for a miracle.
As we got back on the road, I decided to distract myself by recording a video for social media. Back then, I was a (stupid) micro-influencer (translation: I had just enough followers to keep my ego afloat and in return was micro-paid by companies to sell their items-I’m wised to that now). So there I was, lying on the bed in our RV, talking into my phone about leaving Jagster behind, pouring my heart out. And then it happened.
Out of nowhere, there she was. Jaggie-Boo-Boos! She casually popped out from under the covers, her whiskers twitching with what I could only describe as feline nonchalance. Her green eyes blinked lazily, a touch of confusion in them, as if to say, Why on earth have you interrupted my beauty sleep? Completely oblivious to the hurricane of grief she had caused, she was the picture of calm, while I was on the verge of collapse, having just endured the emotional equivalent of a heart attack.
My breath returning to normal as relief washed over me in waves. My heart pounded so wildly it felt like it might burst, each beat echoing in the silence of the RV. It was as if the universe itself had sighed in unison with me. This was no ordinary moment—it felt cinematic, straight out of a classic Lassie movie, the kind of reunion that could thaw even the iciest of hearts.
After I turned off my video, tears streamed down my face, unstoppable and unchecked, as if I had just been reunited with a long-lost hero. My jaw dropped in disbelief, and before I could stop myself, I was scooping her up into the tightest hug I’d ever given. She let me hold her, begrudgingly, I’m sure, probably regretting her decision to come out of hiding.
That moment was pure, unfiltered joy (for me, not the cat), the kind you feel deep in your bones. Even now, a couple of years later, I can still feel it. It was as though the universe had righted itself, the stars had aligned, and balance had been restored. It was my Lassie moment, leaving my cheeks aching from smiling, my heart brimming with gratitude, and the world around me suddenly brighter, more alive.
Of course, the real question remained: how had I missed her? I mean, a tightly made bed surely would have revealed a mysterious lump which would have prompted a poke or two. Something I always do now. Who cares, I was just happy to have my precious Jaggie-Boo-Boos back.
Adjusting to Life on the Road
As for life on the road, our cats had to adapt. Jagster and Zazu weren’t thrilled at first. Chaos, loud noises, and unfamiliar surroundings tend to do that. In the beginning, starting our coach was like waking a roaring fire-breathing dragon, and it became their signal to scatter. It soon became a Pavlovian response: the jingle of the coach keys was all it took. Before the keys even hit the ignition, they had already darted to the sanctuary of the bed. Spoiler alert (we are still on the road): now, five years later, the same key jingling or the distinct sound of the three clicks before the engine roars to life doesn’t even twitch a whisker. Heck, these days, they don’t even wake up. But back then? It was a steep learning curve for all of us.
RVing With Pets: Tips and Tricks
First rule of thumb: whether it’s the back of your car or a coach, by law (depending on the state), pets are supposed to be transported in a carrier. Ha! As if. I couldn’t fathom four or five hours of relentless yowling and howling from these two. Instead, they’ve found their rhythm: start the engine, double-check that they’ve been fed and watered, roll out, and then watch as they claim their favorite spots.
First, there’s Jagster, who likes to hang out up front with me, sometimes even taking a turn on the dash as if she’s yelling, “Are we there yet?” And then there’s Zazu, the self-declared chicken-shit of the family. He prefers quieter, less adventurous locales—his current favorite being the kitchen counter. Yes, the counter. He’s got his own little non-slip mat up there to make the ride cozy, taking full advantage of a spot that’s strictly off-limits when we’re parked.
While I’ve shared videos of Jagster perched on the dash, let me be clear—it’s always on wide-open highways, well outside city limits. Even so, she has her moments of rebellion, and one of us is inevitably shooing her off when she gets a little too boldly feisty.
Pet Preparedness
Over the years, I’ve become a bit of a pet-preparedness expert, born out of necessity (and lots of failure and unpreparedness). Whether it’s smuggling them into hotels, taking a last minute flight or evacuating during emergencies, you need a grab-and-go bag. Here’s what I keep in mine:
Two cat leashes and harnesses
One lead stake
Bag of cat food
bag of cat treats
32-ounce bottle of water
Two collapsible bowls for water and food
Package of small paper plates
Package of plastic forks
Disposable cat litter box
Bag of litter
Litter scooper
One roll of garbage bags
One roll of paper towels
Small bottle of pet stain remover
Package of baby wipes
Puppy pads
Small brush and dustpan
Small dish soap
Tea towel
Rescue Pet Remedy (natural cat calmer)
Package of catnip
Small first aid kit
Bottle of colloidal silver (natural antibiotic for pets and humans)
Some toys
Cardboard scratching pad
Package of puppy training pads
Small fleece blanket (for comfort)
Large double cat carrier
Two foldable TSA-approved cat carriers
Two foldable dollies (for plane travel)
This list isn’t just for emergencies; it’s for peace of mind. Whether it’s raw freeze-dried food for my cats or colloidal silver for first aid, everything has a purpose. And let’s not forget puppy pads—absolute lifesavers for those “gotta go now” moments especially in an airport lounge.
The Airport Adventure
Although this didn’t happen during our first year on the road, there was a time we had to take our cats on a flight. My mother-in-law passed away, and there was no time to find a pet sitter. With a two-hour drive to the airport for an extremely early flight, their morning routine was completely disrupted. We left at 2 a.m., and frankly, no one’s routine was normal that day.
At the airport, they were on their leashes, meowing in confusion and hunger. I’ve had my cats for seventeen years, but even I was overwhelmed. To make matters worse, people gathered around, filming us as if they’d never seen cats on leashes before. Jagster, ever the diva, basked in the attention, but poor Zazu was clearly in need of a litter box. With no time to find a solution, I grabbed a Starbucks paper bag (his favorite) and to my amazement, he went. Sometimes, when you gotta go, you go. Jagster, true to form, held out. She’s never been one to entertain the idea of doing her business outside of her litter box.
After we got off the first leg of our journey—complete with hours of howling and an impromptu video and photoshoot courtesy of curious strangers morphing into a full-blown social media paparazzi frenzy I left the ham Jaggies there to soak it all in while I found a corner, laid down a puppy pad, and barely had time to set it up. Zazu immediately squatted, ready to go, when BAM! Before he could start, Jagster bolted over, knocked him off the pad, and unapologetically did her business.
I was in awe. Neither of these cats had ever seen a puppy pad before, yet somehow, they instinctively knew what I was doing and, what to do. Poor Zazu, ever the gentleman, stood there completely confused but maintained his charming manners, patiently waiting while Jaggies finished. While I was attempting to set up a fresh pad for him, he got busy trying to bury his sister’s business, after she bolted back to the limelight, an act both endearing and absurd.
Watching this ridiculous scene unfold, with Zazu’s bewildered expression and Jagster’s unapologetic audacity, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I mean, there was no muffling this moment. I tried to keep it together to preserve Zazu’s dignity, but I just couldn’t do it. Needless to say, when it was finally his turn, Zazu went like a champ, and clean-up was a breeze even though he wanted to help.
I felt so bad these two had not eaten that I decided to feed them, but that was not such a good idea. I thought perhaps it would calm them down and help them be a little quieter on the flight. After all, when they eat at home they find a quiet spot to groom themselves before a nice long cat nap. I was hoping the same thing was going to happen.
They had howled so badly on their first flight I felt like the mother with the crying baby annoying everyone else but embarrassingly powerless to stop it.
They both eagerly lapped up their meal and drank some water, and I thought, Well, that’s that. But on the second flight? No such luck. The howling and indignant quips about the indignity of being confined continued unabated.
As we hit the twisty descent, poor Zazu tossed his entire stomach’s contents just as we were landing. Panicked, I slipped my hand into his carrier to make sure he wasn’t choking. After all, he couldn’t exactly stand up to vomit. As I was carefully pushing the vomit to the side to help him retain some shred of dignity, my moment of focus was shattered by the flight attendant screaming at me, her voice slicing through the chaos like a siren.
I tried to explain calmly, but firmly, that I knew the rules and wasn’t about to let him out, I needed to ensure he could breathe. I understood how it must have looked to others: me with one hand in the carrier, my face a mix of panic and determination. But I wasn’t taking any chances with Zazu’s well-being. Meanwhile, as the flight attendant continued to wail at me, I half-expected an Air Marshal to materialize like something out of the Matrix or, worse, to be dragged off the plane in hand cuffs covered in cat vomit, added to the no-fly list, and plastered all over YouTube by nightfall.
Times are tough, and my imagination wasn’t helping. All I wanted was to move the vomit aside, ensure Zazu could breathe, and keep everything under control, all without letting his head pop out of the carrier and with my bum firmly planted in my buckled seat. Seasoned frequent flyer right here, I’ve got game, even if it wasn’t looking particularly classy at that moment and nailed the mission despite lady crabby-pants.
Note to self: always pack large Ziploc baggies for containing wet wipes full of vomit. Trust me, it would have been a game-changer.
Flying with cats
Before flying, be sure to check out the pet policy online for the airlines you are flying with. Each airline has different rules. You may also have to purchase a pet carrier from them or at the very least, grab the dimensions they suggest. Carriers must be stowed under your seat in front of you while onboard.
If you have never paid attention to the area under the seat in front of you, it is tiny and even smaller for an aisle seat. If you are shopping on Amazon, be really careful because not all carriers are TSA-approved. And, a double carrier will never fit under the seat in front of you, at least not on Southwest. If you are flying first class, perhaps, but be sure to have the dimensions of the carrier you are flying with.
I went with a company called SHERPA that guarantees their carriers are accepted. This was the number one criterion along with all sides being mesh for maximum airflow and collapsible for storage. When it comes to RVing whether its a van or a full 45 foot coach, storage is at a premium. The carrier also has handles and enough height and space to allow them to turn around and stretch comfortably. They are well-made, and I love the added touch of the Sherpa lining giving my cats a nice, comfortable breathable box to be in.
Although I was satisfied with my choice, the cats were not. The persistent hours of howling, yips, and absurd meowing at the indignity of being confined were a testament to their discontent. I also found a couple of small folding luggage dollies on Amazon that fit nicely in the overhead. I was able to put our carry-on bag on the dolly along with a cat carrier, and breezing through the airport was, well, a breeze. On the way back, Jagster had had enough, but I didn’t want to put her leash on and deal with social media paparazzi again.
I opened the top flap of the carrier, closed it around her head, and she was okay with this. It took a really long time to get out of the airport because I was laughing so hard, rolling down the hallways with her head poked out of the carrier, darting back and forth trying to take in the scene was more than I could handle after a long flight and I was giddy. Jaggies is such a treat to have.
What to Consider When Traveling with Pets
Traveling with pets requires preparation and patience, but the rewards make it all worthwhile. Here are some tips and insights from my experiences that will help you and your furry friends enjoy the journey together.
Before your pets move into the RV, it’s crucial to bring as much of their scent as possible into the space. This helps them feel more at ease. Even with this preparation, they’ll need time to adjust. Have you ever moved homes? The same kind of disorientation applies here. It can take a couple of months for pets to fully adapt to RV life, depending on their temperament.
For cats, pheromone sprays or plug-ins are often recommended. While they worked wonders at the vet’s office, they weren’t effective in our RV. This was partly because most of our receptacles are located under cabinets or on the ceiling, making them hard to use. Instead, shower your pets with love, patience, and plenty of treats—oh, and lots of catnip, lots and lots of catnip, and they’ll come around in time.
Planning for Repairs and Emergencies
One major consideration when RVing with pets is planning for situations when repairs are needed, and your pets can’t stay in the coach. During cooler seasons, I can take my cats to a park on their leashes. In the summer heat, we’re confined to the car, which they dislike despite not being confined to a carrier. Oddly enough, they’ll complain for a while and then find a spot to nap as long as the car is moving. My go-to bag with essentials ensures I’m prepared for anything.
In summer, we sometimes schedule RV repairs alongside car maintenance, allowing us to wait comfortably in an air-conditioned dealership. Thanks to my husband for this genius idea!
Training and Behavioral Tips
When I was studying psychology, Pavlov’s method of training through reinforcement stuck with me. It works wonders with my cats. Shaking a bag of cat treats while calling their names always gets their attention. When they come, I lavish them with praise and a treat. This routine not only makes them easier to locate but also creates positive associations.
Both my cats walk on leads, but their personalities differ greatly. Zazu is calm and will lie down if startled, making him easy to handle. Jagster, on the other hand, is a mischievous escape artist. One time, she got out without our knowledge and meowed at the closed door to be let back in, only to immediately run to the treat drawer. Now, if she gets out, I leave the door open, and she eventually comes back, heading straight for her reward. And, I bet. you can guess what I do? Ooze it thick and strong with praise and cat treats. Works like a charm. Before firing up the engine, I do a headcount by shaking the treat bag and calling their names. It’s become a fun routine—and no more hiding for Jagster!
Walking in RV Parks and Wild Areas
When walking my cats in RV parks or boondocking spots, I always carry a can of pepper spray. My cats enjoy the same outdoor luxuries as dogs but don’t get along with them. I’ve had hawks and owls swoop down on us, thwarted only by leashes and flailing arms. Once, we were attacked by feral Rottweiler puppies. My cats ran to the RV door for safety, but I was the one worse for wear. Now, I make sure EVERYTIME I have either the pepper spray or bear spray to protect us from potential dangers.
Handling Power and Temperature Issues
I didn’t think about leaving my pets in the coach overnight until we encountered power issues at an RV park. Like cars, RVs can become dangerously hot or cold when turned off. If temperatures exceed 70°F, I won’t leave them alone, even with food and water.
Pet monitors with cameras and temperature sensors are helpful. These devices alert you to power interruptions or temperature changes. While they’re great for monitoring, they don’t restore power, so plan accordingly.
Managing Ticks and Hygiene
Ticks are another challenge. Before bringing my cats back into the coach, especially in tick-prone areas, I check them thoroughly. I keep a tick remover on my key ring, along with tweezers and tea tree oil, in a basket by the door. This basket also holds cleaning rags for wiping muddy paws.
Keeping Medical Records
Always have your pets’ medical records and a list of their medications on hand, either electronically or in paper form. When you’re stressed during an emergency, this preparation will save you time and effort. If you need a veterinarian on the road, start with Google reviews and trust your instincts.
Final Thoughts
Traveling with pets isn’t just a logistical challenge, it’s a lesson in adaptability, patience, and love. Every time I watch Jagster claim shotgun on her co-pilot spot on the passenger seat or Zazu settle into his tissue paper box on the couch, I’m reminded of how far we’ve come since that heart-stopping moment when I thought I’d lost her forever. Their resilience has not only made this journey possible but has also shown me the beauty of embracing life’s chaos with a little more grace. My cats might not know it, but they’ve taught me more about resilience than I ever thought possible. And for that, I’ll always be grateful to my little Jaggi-Boo-Boos and Zazu.
Oh, and one final thought, I must give credit where credit is due. Ernie, was right, she was probably hiding somewhere in the coach.
Ernie 2 ( and well deserved for both genius ideas)
Karen 0 (should have listened)
Jaggies 100 (for just being Jaggies)
Ok, now that we have both cats accounted for, we are truly off to Florida, and I will save that for next week when we camp under an overpass and a freaky storm—oh such fun.
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~Karen
I love your stories Karen, I have a cat who Im sure would love to come on some of my trips with me in the Jeep (she thinks she owns), Im measuring her for a harness later today 🤞🏻 and will start to (try) and train her into it. She likes going for walks around our block, so I know the desire is there in her 😄
Jaggie-Boo-Boos probably went to another dimension, then came home. Rhiannon can barely handle a trip across town to the vet. She couldn't handle an airport or RV. 🙀