Mad Feline

So one of the major narrative lines of the last few months has been where my cat George was going to go to when I go to Ecuador. When my parents offered to take him as a solution of last resort, I don't think that they actually realized that last resorts were what we were going to be dealing with, but that is in fact what happened. This all sounds well and good on the face of it, but over the years, George has proved to be, how do you say it...terrifying. He is often sweet and cuddly, but there are times when you would swear that you were in a Stephen King movie where the force of darkness have taken over in the shape of my 20 lb. black cat. I usually throw him in the other room and after a little while he goes back to being a normal animal, but it made him a sort of tough sell. Who wants a cat who will only jump on you and scratch you once and awhile?

So, I wasn't so jazzed about my parents dealing with this, but there you are. All other takers and options had exhausted themselves so I called up Mom and Dad to see if they were serious about their offer. It turns out they weren't really, but the nice thing about parents is that it often doesn't matter once the offer has been put on the table.

In this way it came to pass that I was in La Guardia airport with a gigantic backpack and a pet carrier that weighed almost as much. Everything was going fine so far, I had checked him in and paid the pet fee, and was working my way through security. Says the security agent to me, "Put the carrier on the x-ray machine belt and take him out to carry him through the checkpoint."

Is she kidding, I think to myself?

"Are you kidding?" I say.

I can't take him out, I explain. He'll get away and go running through the airport on a busy Friday afternoon. His hair will get all puffy and he'll scratch whoever tries to pick him up. It will be madness and people will be very angry with me. Security agents particularly.

"Speak to the supervisor," she says.

The supervisor is a nice guy who explains that there is no way the cat's bag is going on the plane unless it goes through the x-ray machine. I can send George on the little belt, but they don't recommend it. He offers to help though and takes the bag through for me, while big George, suddenly not so big anymore, clings to me with all four claws as we go through security without so much as a beep.