A Mile High

Our lungs are still adjusting to the high altitude and we're a bit dehydrated and a bit overwhelmed, but we're here in Denver now. Have you ever flown with cats? It turns out JetBlue lets you take a cat aboard for $50, as long as you have a special small carrier that fits under the seat in front of you. This is one of those things that seemed like a genius plan when we were buying the tickets, then quickly escalated to a kill-me-now situation when we were faced with actually putting cats in tiny boxes and taking them on a seven hour trip. The vet gave us some sedatives to give them, and in my head I imagined the pills would slide down the kitties' throats and they would be out like a light for solid chunk of time. I imagined them dropping to the ground in a sound slumber and shifting their limp bodies into the cages, where they would sleep until we reached Denver.

What really happened was we gave the cats the pills and they ran around like we fed them a tasty treat. Then we had to forcibly jam them into the tiny carriers and jog through the rain to the livery cab, where the cats cried and cried and cried and we made light jokes to the driver (not happy) and murmured completely useless things like, "Shh shhh, it's okay. Yeah, don't I know it, Pinky." Then we got to the airport and the crying stopped for a bit (or maybe it was just really loud). Then: security. I'm not sure what I thought we would have to do, but I imagined the boxes getting wanded or us walking through the metal detector with the carriers. But apparently you have to take the cats out of the box and walk through the detector with the cat, sending the carrier through the x-ray machine. As you might imagine, the idea of letting the cats out of their containments in the middle of the airport struck me as only slightly more appealing than jamming a poker in my eye. After a little freakout, and left with no other choices, that's what we did. I had Pinky and I think she was a bit too mindblown to do much but let me hold her.

Back in their carriers, they continued to cry. Here is what people like to say to you when you have crying cats: "Aww, those are some unhappy cats!" Really? I HADN'T NOTICED. But you telling me that certainly will keep me from doing this for my fun and amusement in the future. We jammed more sedatives down their throats and prayed the plane would be a better environment for them to pass out in.

We got settled and the cats seemed to calm down. Until a crazy guy sitting in the seat in front of me tried to shove some things under his seat and accidentally unlatched Pinky's cage. I was just closing my eyes when I felt J hit my arm and yell, "Pinky's out!" I think I could have won a medal for how fast I unlatched my seatbelt, threw off my headphones, and pounced on the little gray streak making her way down the aisle. It was Cats on a Plane! We wrestled her back into the cage and order was restored. This crazy guy, though, he just couldn't stop with the crazy. He spent the entire flight hitting the screen of the television screen in front of him trying to change the channels, even though the were controls located on the arm of the chair. Which probably didn't make a difference given he wasn't wearing headphones. Then, when I came back from the bathroom, there was a life vest sitting on my chair. J told me the guy pulled it from his seat, seemed baffled it was in his hands, then placed it quickly on my empty seat and sat back down.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and we got to my parents' house in one piece. One tired, stressed out piece, but okay nonetheless.

The suburbs are quiet. J and I went for a walk to a nearby park before dinner and marveled at the oddities we'd forgotten about: the glittering Aspen trees, the tiny sidewalks, the people who pass you and say "Hi," the lush lawns, the huge sky, the quiet. Nothing's really hit me yet, but it feels good to be here now.