Monday, November 3

The World Traveller

[Sixth in a series]

Since BabyDoll was no longer a street cat, she never went anywhere. That is, until a friend invited me out to Oklahoma one Christmas. And I took BabyDoll with me. Back in those days - 1995 - taking your cat along on a plane trip was really no big deal; she got to ride in the cabin with me.

I bought her a top-of-the-line mesh carrier, so she could see out, but no one could see in. Other than the security people, no one ever knew there was a cat in their midst. And while waiting for our flight, with the carrier on my lap, I unzipped the top only far enough so she could stick her head out. Amazing what people choose to see if they see anything at all - the only person in a group of about fifty people was a little girl of about seven. "Look, Mommy! A Kitty!"

"Yes, dear".

"No, Mommy, look over there!"

Then everyone saw BabyDoll.

I did that, too, on the plane. And she was soooo good! Never made a sound, and what really amazed me, never had any accidents, though I wouldn't have been surprised.

That's just the kind of cat BabyDoll was. No surprises. She never once scratched me or bit me in eighteen years. She'd sleep on my chest, never making a sound. Other times she'd sleep right next to me, never nudging or squirming to get out of the way. She was always just there.

And now she's not.

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