I Escaped...For A Little While

I almost got away...for a time....on my own. But Matt knew my weaknesses!

I guess you already know we have a new truck. And like a anything new, it must be tested for weaknesses of its own to see if I can break out of it and run free!!!!

And I did.... for a short spell.

The freightliner cascadia has a few loopholes through which pets can flee, and I found one. The driver's seat, when raised to its driving height, offers space through which a cat or small dog can race under and out to be free free free!!!!...if the door is open for the driver to talk to a pedestrian. Or if the driver wants more fresh air than opening a window can avail.

I discovered this myself and dashed outside to the free air! And I ran and ran...until I heard Matt making smooching noises and shaking my jar of treats... Oh bliss! Treats!...for me!!! I ran back to him meowing and he grabbed me and stuck me back into the truck. He didn't even give me any treats. Yeah, see if that works again next time. We'll see.

Good thing I didn't get run over and squished. Now Matt has stuffed a large pillow under the seat so I can't see out and make my escape. I must find other ways. Yes. I must find them soon.

Brand New Truck!!! Oops!, Someone Already Hit It!

It has happened... Well, a lot has happened, actually.

For some reason Matt's company decided to trade several 2006 trucks in early at only around 450,000 miles on the odometer. Matt and I were assigned a brand-spankin'-new, red, 2011 Freightliner Cascadia two days ago. Hooray! Never have I experienced the smells of a factory new semi truck with only 19 miles on it. Quite an experience for this aging cat. And to think that only 8 months ago Matt and I thought we would have to part company due to anti-idling laws and our company's seemingly rigid pet policy.

Now the bad news. And it's mounting. We drove only about 242 miles to North Platte, NE from our company terminal where we got the truck before realizing some bugs that had to be fixed. Unfortunately they weren't the kind of juicy, crunchy bugs with wings in which I occasionally indulge, but technical crapola that caused us to go to the nearest Freightliner shop to have it fixed. A part was ordered to arrive Saturday so we spent the night Friday evening at the nearby Love's Travel Plaza.

At around 9 or 10pm we heard a loud scrape-crunch noise on our driver-side caused by some 4-month rookie driver whose passenger wife was too lazy to get out and spot for him to make sure he backed in next to us safely. Now he will likely lose his job, and we will have lots of downtime getting this damage fixed! See photos. So now while we waited for the technical stuff to get fixed, we looked forward to going back to the terminal and wait for them to do the body work. But they told us to wait until the middle of May when Matt and I take our vacation to have it fixed, since it would be at least a 1 week job. So we get to drive around showing off our new accident, while everyone thinks Matt probably caused it himself. Lovely. Oh well, everything has its price.

The part that sucks the most for me....is all the time I'm spending locked up in my kennel. All day while Matt transfered all his junk from one truck to the other, most of the day while we waited to be told what was needed to fix the truck, the day following the accident while we waited for UPS to deliver the part we needed, while the damage was being assessed at the corporate terminal by honchos of note, etc... It's a wonder I don't start making messes in this thing. Glad I have a towel in here...

Today we're in Ohio, on our way to Rochester, NY to deliver Monday (too much time to deliver), so we can get a load through home to have the nearby terminal also assess the damage and order parts and panels. Phew! Lots to do when rookies hit our truck!

Another Cartoon From Simon's Cat

As most of you well know, Matt is a big fan of Simon's Cat (though personally I find him to be a frightful bore and hardly to be believed) and demands I post whatever the latest cartoon of his to be. So here it is.

Of course that bird would have been dead within a few seconds had he pelted ME with a snowball!

It Would Appear I Get To Stay After All.....Most Likely....

Although I have known for several weeks, I wanted some time to go by just in case my employer changed their minds. But it seems to be that at moderate cost (to be explained later), there is no immediate need for me to find a new home. In fact I might be around next Christmas after all, provided I don't sneak out of the truck again, or get mauled by large dogs, or choke on my own vomit, or call Matt names again, or find a way to jump out of our 3rd story window at home, or jump out of the truck while it's in motion (say...62 mph or so), or anything like that. Now,...if only I could figure out how to work Matt's stereo....

Here are the rules of Matt's employer's new pet policy (subject to change at their friggin' whimsy):

1. Truck must be kept clean at all times. No exceptions. This was going to be a problem so long as I used clay kitty litter, but since switching to Yesterday's News there is virtually no tracking of anything or dust getting clogged in air filters.
2. Matt must pay for every air filter change. That means parts AND labor. Air filter refers to in-cab air filters, not the engine filters.
3. Pets are not allowed in any company buildings, even when trucks are worked on. This means that even in sub-zero weather, I have to go outside with Matt and wait for hours and hours for the work to be done, or else get a motel that allows pets, or take my chances at a pet motel where I usually go berserk in a cage and try to savage all humans who come near me.
4. If in the event that blah blah effects blah blah, then blah blah blah etc..... Okay you really don't need to read the rest of the crapola, but basically Matt can be assigned a brand new truck even though he has me with him now. He just has to pay for a lot of crap he didn't have to pay for before. That's all.
   

Our Last Christmas Together (Probably)

When people out in the trucking world walk up to you and ask you why you aren't blogging so much anymore, it's time to post something. Not that total strangers are really doing this, but it's fun to pretend...

Well, another Christmas will arrive in a few hours... This means very little to me personally, since Christmas is a human kinda thing. But often times it results in me getting a bunch of treats from my manservant. Please don't tell Matt I already know he's giving me "Happy Hips" treats this year. Lovely, lovely chicken jerky treats with glucosamine and condroyton for well-lubed joints, which come in handy when you spend your days in a moving vehicle.

It may well be our last Christmas together unless Matt can pull a juicy rabbit out of a hat. In spite of those incriminating emails exchanged by global warming scientists, it doesn't look like those idiot state legislators will change their stupid anti-idling laws for trucks, which, if they did would mean no APU's or trucks that have onboard heaters sensitive to pet dander. Please don't get me started on stupid, chicken-little humans...

Matt and I will do our best to enjoy our last Christmas together before he searches for a new home for me, and I come off the road at last. I will miss Matt dearly, but not the truck so much. There just isn't enough room in there for me to run around. Climbing things is fun, but it's like a large prison cell. And I think Matt will miss me, too, but not my litterbox or scratchpost which take up what little space we have.

Parting will mean starting a new chapter in both our lives, which is both exciting and scary. Will my new man (or woman) servant remember to medicate me twice daily? Will he or she even remember to feed me twice daily? Will they scoop the litter out of my litterbox frequently? Will they go "eeeewwwwww!!!" when I lick my butt? One can never tell what the future holds.

Happy Anniversary! Four Years And Counting...

Today is the fourth anniversary of my adoption of Matt as my owner, which I transacted at the Center For Animal Health And Welfare (formerly known as SPCA of Northampton County) in short order after I wooed him mercilessly by showing him the  attention  which he so lacked.

Four years with Matt means four years living in a semi truck.  That means close quarter living conditions in all kinds of weather with the occasional trip home where my crow's nest awaits my passionate clawing.  Things are still up in the air as far as how much longer we will live together.  But it's been that way for a while now.  Matt's employer forced him to trade the old truck in sooner than expected.  And of course we were put in a crappy old truck (though not as old as the previous had become) because of little ol' me.  This one has only 384,000 miles on it, so is probably good for another year at least.  We can idle the truck in most places when it gets too cold or too hot at least until April or May of 2010.  Then we have to do it carefully.  By next Winter, though, I am no longer a truck rider, and I will be out with or without Matt.  We can survive a summer with little or no idling, but not a winter.  Read previous posts about the anti-idling laws stupid humans passed so far.  By next Winter I will be 8 and one half years old.

I've gotten thinner and probably won't live a full cat-life due to my annoying food allergy, for which I take Prednisone.  Perhaps I shall dwell on this earth only 2 or 3 more years tops.  So I am taking pictures with Matt's iPhone camera (does not require thumbs to use!) and getting the most out of life by severely damaging my toys.  No one knows what the future holds, but I thought I would at least bring everyone up to date on the present.  Have a great life...all 9 of them.

Number Of Options Is Declining

Sorry it has been so long since posting in my blog, but Matt hasnt wanted to deal with this since realizing I might have to grab my stick and handkerchief and hit the road like a hobo.

It was discussed between us that I might be okay at the shelter once I had to vacate the truck. But recently in the Atlanta area Matt had to drop me off at a pet resort for about 20 hours or so while he attended a safety meeting. Guess he wasn't allowed to idle the truck for A/C for me while he was in the all-day meeting, so I got to cool my claws in a large cage all day and night. I don't really remember much about what happened, except that I was really angry and tried to scratch everyone who came near me, even Matt when he picked me up. But I calmed down when he took me back out to the truck where everything was familiar. I guess I have gotten so used to things being the same all the time that I flip out over change. But the lady at the resort claimed I was upset over being caged. Hmmm. Is that not what they do at shelters? I seem to remember being caged at the shelter almost 4 years ago when Matt rescued me.

So Matt and I are still going over our options. The economy has tanked and freight is very slow, especially in the North East where we live. So much for a local driving job...

Thinking about getting Matt to create an advertisement of some kind offering me up for adoption and spreading it locally. Hate to resort to that so soon. Anybody got any ideas????

Anti-Idle Laws Mean I Go Back To The Shelter

Okay, time for me to put in my two cents about this global warming thing.

First, I just wanna say that it is affecting both Matt and I already, even though the polar ice caps have not melted and we are not flooded out of our truck. No. Both of us, myself for certain, will be out of the truck long before then. And here's why:

Several states are passing legislation to outlaw truck engine idling. That means that when Matt and I park for the night at a truck stop, rest area or other approved truck parking area, the engine will have to be shut off during our D.O.T required 10 hour rest period.

"Oh, that is wonderful," you may say. "We will all breathe easier, and the sun will shine brighter, and roses and lollipops and all that crap-ola!"

What many of you non-truckers, or 4-wheelers as Matt likes to call them, fail to realize is that we actually live in these trucks, and in order for the interior of the cab to warm up to temperatures comparable to the ones in your own bedrooms at night, the engine must be running. You know, like in your car for instance.

Now to be fair, I should point out that most states will allow the trucks to idle when the temperature drops....TO 40 DEGREES!!! Other states will only allow idling at 32 or even 25 degrees or less! Now ask yourselves, how cold does it have to get outside before we turn on the furnace in our own home? And at what temperature do we set it? How warm do you think it gets in a truck with the engine off when the outside temperature is 40 degrees? Not very. And how rested will we be after sleeping in the freezing cold? Do you really want us on the road after that?

Technology has been very slow to catch up to the chicken-little-global-warming-hysteria. Yes there are things called APU's (auxiliary power unit) that attach to the sides of trucks which handle the interior cold and heat admirably. In fact our company has installed them on some of the older trucks, while Freightliner and International have sold us new trucks which have in-cab heaters that don't require engine idling. Problem solved, right?

NO! The APU's have these really expensive air filters which collect a lot of pet dander and hair and then require expensive maintenance. So expensive, in fact, that our company will not allow pets in trucks that have APU's. The same goes with the new trucks and their in-cab heaters. NO PETS ALLOWED. So Matt and I will be idling our old truck whenever we feel it necessary, and skirting the law in our outdated idle-only heat and A/C source, risking fines of between $300 and $500 per violation. The only alternatives would be to get a hotel room every night at $75 a pop ($60 + $15 pet fee, that comes to around $2,250 per month, and NOT reimbursed by the company), or running over our legal D.O.T. hours of service to get to the next idle friendly state and risking fines of $1,000 or more and months of imprisonment, OR sleeping with the engine off and catching pneumonia and even possibly freezing to death. Did I fail to mention that within 2 years most of the anti-idling states will no longer allow idling at ANY temperature? I will have to vacate the truck and return to the shelter, or Matt will have to find a local driving job in the middle of a nasty recession (which will not improve anytime soon if Obama imposes his Nazi-like Green Plans on industry).

Factories in third world countries and cow flatulence produce more green house gasses than us trying to keep warm at night. If these attitudes of idiot state legislators continue and more stupid laws are passed, trucking will become just another job that Americans won't do. Add it to the list of picking lettuce, construction, factory work, custodial duties, housekeeping, etc... Do we really want illegal immigrants who cannot speak English driving those big 80,000 lbs semi trucks down our nation's highways? And if not them then who? Ex-felons? Hate to tell you this, but that's already happening. Can you picture an ex-felon in every semi truck? They were felons in the first place because they couldn't control their impulses. Can you picture the road rage element?

Matt and I both love clean air and clear water and believe in a certain intelligent level of government regulation and oversight. But hysterically cramming it down our throats with "the sky is falling" attitudes means that some will be trampled upon in the ensuing stampede. I thought these liberals believed in no one left behind. Only when it suits them, I guess.

Kittychism

Sorry I haven't been posting in a while, but I count on Matt to do the typing while I dictate, and Matt hasn't been doing any typing AT ALL!!! He seems to be thinking about other things these days, and doing an awful lot of reading and stuff. It's all about the same subject: Catholicism!

Yes, it looks like Matt is going Catholic. Who would've guessed? He spends hours praying with that necklace thing with the cross at the end of it, but won't let me play with the beads. He says I'll swallow them. Well, of course! That's the whole point of playing with them.

MATT: It's called a Rosary.

BUSTER: So you took the thorns off?

MATT: It doesn't have thorns. It's just a Rosary... We use it to keep track of where we are in our prayer-meditation.

BUSTER: Like Yoga? I hear you chanting while you do it.

MATT: We aren't chanting. We are praying out loud over and over again, while meditating on the mysteries of faith.

BUSTER: Whodunit's? I love a good mystery...

MATT: I think I need to educate you about a few things---

BUSTER: Don't bother. I'll just watch you. Hey, are you going to have me blessed at that St. Francis Feasty thing?

MATT: I wonder if there's a catechism for cats.

BUSTER: Oh, I did that shortly after I was born. They called it Kittychism.

MATT: Kittychism?

BUSTER: Yup. I learned all about the Seven Scratchposts, the resurrection of the body...nine times, and the indulgences (hairball treats). I was even confirmed at the Church of the Sorrowful Meaooow.

MATT: Who taught you to be such a smart-ass?

BUSTER: (Stares at Matt and smiles)

MATT: I see... I think you're jealous.

BUSTER: And why is that?

MATT: Because I finally came home. I've been wandering the wilderness for years on end, spending most those years angry at God. Now I'm picking up where I left off at age 7, getting my first Communion at Easter Vigil, and my confirmation at Pentecost.

BUSTER: You were angry at God? That doesn't sound good. Glad I didn't know you back then.

MATT: It wasn't good. And I wasn't much fun to be around either, except when I had a few beers in me.

BUSTER: Oh, brother! Okay, I'll try to be more supportive then.

MATT: That would be nice. But either way, I am out of the wilderness and back home where I belong.

A Year In Review

Well, another year has nearly ended. And I suppose I must now do what everyone else does at this time: I must recap the whole miserable year so you can see how awful it was for Matt and myself.

First of all, I threw up a total of 42 times, give or take a vomit. I was on the trans dermal prednisolone, which was rubbed into the inside flap of both ears twice a day....ughh. But a month and a half ago my ears were spared and I am now being forced to endure some pseudo-chicken flavored icky ick blaaaahhhhkkkkk stuff that Matt calls liquid prednisolone that he forces into my mouth with some sort of syringe. Although my ears no longer sting so much, my mouth has lost a great deal of its taste. All that just so I can digest my food. Just feed me mice and crunchy birds and I will be fine. Back to nature...outside into the elements...no, too cold. Maybe in the Spring. No, too wet. Aaahh, the Summer beckons me with its sweet aromas of dumpsters and roadkill. No, too many fleas. Forget the Autumn, too many prankster brats running amok.

Matt and I got an apartment, so no more hotels on our off-time. This means I got me a crow's nest to perch in. That was probably the only really good thing this year, that crow's nest.

Now Matt has a tree that he brought in stuffed in a box. He put it together in about an hour. I never knew you could do that. It had no roots or nothing. Then he put all this shiny junk on it. The junk looks cool on the tree, but no smells, birds, or bugs. He needs to take it back and get a better one. Maybe one with juicy squirrels living inside a knot-hole or something.

We have not heard from batboy in quite a while. He is either hibernating or he's dead. I am hoping for the former so I can have another crack at him. He looked so delicious, like a little angel-mouse (mouse with wings). Yum yum.

So anyway, I (we) hope next year, which should happen tonight sometime, will be better than last year (this year up til now).

"Of Course You Know This Means War!"

From the BBC in Toronto, ON:

[Mice may be responsible for a blaze that killed nearly 100 cats at an animal shelter near the Canadian city of Toronto, officials say.

The fire at the humane society shelter in Oshawa also killed three dogs and some rats that were up for adoption.

An initial report from the fire marshal says mice or rats chewing through electrical wires in the ceiling are likely to have sparked the blaze.

Offers of help have been pouring in from animal lovers across Canada.

"It's unfortunate and ironic that mice caused the fire that killed the cats," Toronto Humane Society spokesman Ian McConachie told the BBC News website.

"Unfortunately, the mice probably perished in the fire as well," he added.

The $250,000 (£137,000) fire is still under investigation by the Ontario Fire Marshal's office.

Mr McConachie said it would be some days before a final report would be released.

In all, only nine dogs, two cats and one rat were rescued in Wednesday's early morning blaze.

They are being housed in a nearby municipal shelter, while volunteers rebuild the burnt-down shelter for the Humane Society of Durham Region. ]

Matt and I are in Georgia now, getting ready to go up to the Toronto area. I will be on guard for any mice with matches and propane or possibly Molotov Cocktails being flung at our big rig, as we risk our lives while adding to Canada's pathetic GNP (while simultaneously shrinking our own trade deficit).

Though I think from recent experience that bats might have been in unison with the waywardly and genetically confused mice creatures that have started this insane war of terror, there has been no evidence to support this hypothesis. If any proof surfaces, I will scratch their little blind eyes out and rip their wings to shreds.

Isn't it strange that a rat was rescued, too? I'll bet the little rat bastard had something to do with it, and I can make him talk if necessary. Perhaps Matt will steer the big truck over to the shelter so I can question him thoroughly.

The grieving process must begin soon...and so close to Christmas.

(I did not invent Pinky and the Brain)

Bat Boy Found In Attic

When Matt and I were passing through town for merely a night’s stay at home, we took only the barest essentials and brought them upstairs in one trip. After we both settled down for the night, I heard some noise coming from the horizontal vent above, but just before, the front door. That’s where the air gets sucked into by the furnace. But this noise was a climbing sound of small feet. AND I COULD SMELL SOMETHING ALIVE and possibly quite juicy, and hear it breathing its little quick breaths of air. I knew immediately what it was ------ a BAT! A male bat, to boot!

Oh, it had been so long since I caught a bat and ripped its little wings off while hearing its little screams, egging me on to rip some more. So I sat below the vent...waiting....and waiting. Finally at about 5am (according to Matt) I started meowing loudly and longingly at the little creature, who straddled the grates staring down at me and thinking he was safe.

Matt could see some figure silouetted on the vent, too, and mumbled something about a mouse. Then the bat moved. He started climbing around on the grate toward his exit. For some reason Matt gasped and uttered "tarantula!" It was pretty early, after all. He ran to the kitchen and got some red container with a squeeze handle and ran back to me. Then he set it down and picked me up and carried me over to the kennel and locked me in! That bastard! Was I to miss out on some juicy, bat fricassee?

Matt started squirting the bat with this awful smelling stuff that obviously made him much too toxic for me to enjoy as a meal, but perhaps not too toxic to tear to pieces. The bat started climbing around to avoid the spray, as he seemed to not like it much. Then he climbed onto the smaller, vertical outside vent (facing the hallway) that Matt could see through the ceiling vent where the bat had been stalked by me. THEN Matt saw it was a bat. "That’s a bat!" Matt said. "I think I got him dizzy," he added.

So Matt took a towel and lowered the ceiling door from which stairs unfolded, and slowly climbed up the little staircase ladder and switched on the light. Apparently Matt forgot that bats avoid light, as his quarry (MY friggin quarry!) crawled up the side of the outside vent and disappeared. With no hole in the wall facing the outside hallway, he must have found a secret passage between two slabs of drywall, making his way to some other lucky cat’s apartment.

Word has it that the maintenance guy took a shop vac into our attic and searched for MY bat and found nothing. So a heavy screen mesh was used to cover the whole outer vent to keep the bat and his very toxic feces out of the apartment. And just to be safe, Matt bought some sticky paper at Walmart to lay around the attic floor next time we pass through again. But if that little fellah makes his way into the furnace air ducts and comes out one of the openings in the middle of the livingroom, I’ll be there. Wherever there is squeaking, I’ll be there. Where Matt sleeps and bats may swoop for a quick meal of blood, I’ll be there. I am a very light sleeper when little sounds are near. I will have my ounce of flesh...someday.

(photo borrowed from Bat Guys)

Trash Of All Kinds At TA's These Days

Sure has been a while since Matt let me post on my own blog!!! He's been obsessed with the election and all, and then angry afterward. I really don't see what the fuss is about. The cat hater lost in the Dem primary, you know the one who gave the cat away to strangers when they didn't need him anymore.

Today we saw lots of trash! First when we woke up at the break of dawn, we looked over to this trash compactor and saw a mountain of trash. Matt asked the lady at the desk when he went in to shower why that was so. She said it broke that morning, yes just that morning (yeah right, look at that mountain) and that repair guys were coming to fix it. Well, we may go back through Oklahoma City to the TA truck stop and check on the progress.

Then we went to Ft. Worth, TX where Matt walked around in circles for a half hour in Cabela's parking lot (exercise or something) and then to Amarillo to another TA. Here we saw more trash. But this was in the form of 14 to 15 year old prostitutes knocking on truck doors and saying "hey baby, yah want some commercial company?" When they got to ours Matt shook his head "no" and they kept walking. Then Matt phoned the police after the girls climbed into a truck, and the police came. Now get this, there were two girls, kinda short, in this guy's truck and the police came and the trucker talked his way out of it. The cop didn't climb inside to search the sleeper compartment where the girls were probably hiding, but stood at the doorway and talked to the driver for a long time. Then the cop left. And the underage girls are still hookers. Go figure. Maybe they snuck out the side door when we weren't looking. But there sure was a lot of trash today.

Happy Anniversary --- 3 Years And Counting

Today marks my third anniversary with Matt who adopted me from the SPCA in Easton, PA. Now it's called The Center For Animal Health And Welfare, and is still a NO KILL shelter. I am grateful to them for providing me a home from December of '04 until September 30, 2005 when Matt rescued me. But I would never wish to return. I had enough to eat and all that, but I had to spend most of my time in a cage with no one to pet me or throw me toys to play with. And some of the other cats were quite scary...you know, mental and stuff. Matt compares it to the island of lost toys...or something called Cuckoos Nest or something.

I never figured on being adopted by a trucker. It's a nonstop life of bouncing around, turning sharp, stopping abruptly, cramped quarters, and changing views. Though many of the views look like many others we've seen. We go home to an apartment nowadays. Used to be hotels. That was always interesting. But now I get to go home to the same place each time with a crow's nest to climb up into and huge windows to look out of.

Mixed Review On New Truck Offering

Matt and I had a look at the new trucks the company is buying. The reviews are mixed. The new truck is called Cascadia by Freightliner and has a new look, but not that new.

First the good bits.

1) Better insulation! The walls are thicker and better sealed, which means fewer ear drops for me when it gets cold. The Century we have now lets an arctic breeze in through the window crank and the door handle. Our current truck has to start up and shut off very frequently while we sleep in order to blow hot or cold air to maintain a comfortable temperature. No longer an issue.

2) Bunk furnace! Now we don't have to run the truck at all during the winter months. We can leave it shut off at night and sleep with no disturbing vibrations or shaking, thanks to a separate heating unit in the sleeper compartment where Matt and I snooze.

3) Better fuel economy! I don't really understand this one, but Matt says it means the company is less likely to go belly-up with lower fuel costs.

4) Comfy seats! Good for Matt. I lay on the dashboard.

5) Closet doors on closets! No more mesh nets that allow junk to spill out onto my tender little brain-cover. My noggin will be happier for it.

And now the not so good bits...

1) A/C not separate! We still have to idle the stupid truck in the Summer months just to stay cool. If Matt leaves the top sleeper windows open and the bottom vents open and the front windows open a little I won't die from suffocation. Also helps if he leaves the blower on low (so as not to drain the battery) to keep some sort of air circulation.

2) Power windows on both sides! Personally I have no problem with this. All I need to do is stomp on the buttons located on the inside door panels and the windows open up...FOR ME! I can get out and run around and get lost in joyful abandon. Matt says I will wind up in the kitchen of a Korean restaurant if this happens, even though I assure him I would return...eventually.

3) Power door locks on both sides! This means I can step on the buttons to allow strangers in the truck to pet me and give me treats while Matt is away...or asleep in the bunk. I get so lonely when he's gone. Again, no problem for me. And I don't see too many Koreans in truckstops.

4) Brake-seize-up-thingy! There is this thing that causes the brakes to seize up if you get too close to another truck or 4-wheel thingy, all for the sake of safety. I really don't know much about this except that the trucker we spoke to yesterday swore a lot about it...and loudly. I learned lots of new words yesterday, but cannot yet manipulate my mouth or tongue to speak them. Matt won't allow me to type them.

5) No place for the XM Radio antenna! In fact Matt says there is no where to attach anything at all on these new Cascadias. No flags, no banners, no CB antennas except a mount for small antennas only.

6) Limited storage! No more big open storage space above the windshield for me to jump up into (that makes Matt so angry!). Matt will miss it, too.

Matt says progress is two steps forward but one step backwards. I fail to see the logic there as lessons are usually painful to learn. Why take the one step back? Do humans forget the pain involved in learning? Go figure. Anyway we will probably be getting a new truck in March or so when the old one gets turned in. The old one should have 500,000 miles on it by then, maybe more.

Feast Of St. Francis

We're back on the road and driving lots of miles, about 3,600 in the first week, to be exact. Now we're out of hours and taking a day off to make them reset. Thirty-four hours of peace and quiet and Matt yelling and throwing stuff at me when I try to eat food off his plate. Aaaahhh. This is heaven. So relaxing.

Matt says we're in East Lexington, VA, but all I see is a parking lot with a lot of other trucks facing us. Two of them have dogs that keep barking at me, even though it's 2:30 in the friggin' AM. Looks like we're gonna miss the blessing of the pets at the local Lutheran church on October 4th. Yeah, something to do with St. Francis of Assisi or something. Guess he liked blessing animals to make them go to Heaven. Wonder if I could go there. Guess Matt doesn't want me to join him in the afterlife, or he'd get me blessed with all the other animals. Doesn't seem fair to me, no not at all. Doesn't seem fair that he eats in front of me, either. He eats some great smelling stuff, yes he does. Sometimes I forget myself and lunge toward him to grab it before it gets inside his mouth. He doesn't like that and yells at me.

MATT: You know, I shouldn't have to cut in so much to correct you. But I should mention that the blessing doesn't mean you go to Heaven when you die. It simply means you are blessed. Maybe you'll be healed of your ailments, or perhaps you'll be happier. But true salvation comes from accepting Christ as your Lord and Savior.

BUSTER: Anything in the Bible about pets doing that?

MATT: What? Accepting Christ?

BUSTER: Yeah.

MATT: Not sure, really... Animals are kinda dumb in the Bible,...and elsewhere.

BUSTER: Think He'd make an exception?

MATT: Hmmm... Depends upon where your heart is. (pause) Hey, I've got the St. Francis prayer for pets...if you want ME to bless you...

BUSTER: Sure, why not?

MATT: Okay, bow your head.

BUSTER: Okay (bowing head)

MATT: Blessed are You, Lord God, maker of all living creatures. You called forth fish in the sea, birds in the air and animals on the land. You inspired St. Francis to call all of them his brothers and sisters. We ask that you bless Buster Kitty. By the power of Your love, enable him to live according to Your plan. May we always praise You for all Your beauty in creation. Blessed are You, Lord our God, in all Your creatures! Amen.

BUSTER: I liked the part about the fish and birds. Wish He'd call forth some of them right now for me. Well, thanks Matt. I feel better all ready.

MATT: Hold on! Gotta sprinkle you with Holy Water.

BUSTER: Hey, is that the time? Gotta be going, I'd say.

MATT: It's 3am and we're out of hours, remember? Now hold still. (sprinkles water from plastic bottle).

BUSTER: Yeeeaaaaaccchhhhh!!!! (shakes violently) That's not Holy! That's Dasani!!!

MATT: I had to improvise. And there was no time for me to get ordained.

BUSTER: Oh great.

Matt's Pilgrimage To Ground Zero

BUSTER: Okay, so are you gonna tell me why you got up so early on Thursday? And why you got back so late? And why you didn't go to bed until Friday morning? Were you...were you out there...feeding some other cat????

MATT: No! Don't worry. You're the only cat for me, Buster.

BUSTER: Then would yah feed me NOW, please? The big hand and little hand say I'm hungry!

MATT: Sure, but let me answer your questions first.

BUSTER: *sigh*

MATT: You know about 9-11, right?

BUSTER: Yeah, even I know about that. Very sad, yes. And that's why you blog, right?

MATT: Yes. And do you remember me telling you I was on vacation at the time? And that by the mere flip of a coin I flew out west instead of NYC?

BUSTER: Yes, and you would have visited the WTC, too. You just don't know which day it would have been. Yes...you told me all that. But you flew back home on the 10th, right?

MATT: Yeah, because Priceline.com could only get me a flight back home then. I was trying for the 11th or 12th. It was the last time I flew on a plane.

BUSTER: Okay, so what?

MATT: So I dodged a bullet, that's what. But most of all, my country was attacked! So 9-11 is a big deal to me. And that's where I was.

BUSTER: Where? NYC? WTC? You're nuts!

MATT: They got it cleaned up. And they're starting to rebuild...but it's very slow going.

BUSTER: So what happened there?

MATT: Well, I drove up to Carteret and parked the car. Then I hopped the Jersey Transit Bus into Midtown Manhattan and caught the E train down to Ground Zero. But when I got there no one could get in to see the commemoration except dignitaries, victims' family members, or the press.

BUSTER: Couldn't you claw your way up a tree or the side of one of them tall buildings I saw on TV? That's what I would have done.

MATT: Then I should've taken you with me.

BUSTER: So what did you do?

MATT: Well, I drove all that way after getting up at 2:30am to report on the events for my blog. I felt I had to do...something. So I went to the desk where they gave out press passes and asked for one. After all, I am a blogger who reports news along with commentary, and I was there to cover the event. So why not?

BUSTER: And they gave you one??? Just like that? No strip search?

MATT: Yep! Of course they asked for credentials, first.

BUSTER: But you don't have any!

MATT: My blog is my credential. Fortunately one of them was armed with a Blackberry and visited St. Blogustine. Since my name and picture matched the ones on my blog, they let me in. Oh, and my not being a crackpot helped a lot.

BUSTER: Yeah (laughing), but do they know about THIS blog?

MATT: You mean my blog about a cat who talks? No, I didn't think it was a good time to mention that.

BUSTER: Smart move.

MATT: So they gave me a press pass to wear around my neck and I was escorted inside.

BUSTER: Inside?

MATT: Past the barriers. Past the obstructing trees that hid the events from the masses. All the way to the grandstand in the rear where the press was herded. We were not allowed to venture forth, though some did. But I got several good pictures during the event. I expected McCain and Obama to say a few words or even get on stage, but they never appeared.

BUSTER: Where were they?

MATT: Down in the pit meeting with other victims' family members. There were quite a lot of them.

BUSTER: So how was it?

MATT: Very depressing, very emotionally draining. Lots of crying, even after 7 years. Something was taken from all of us, but none more than from the family members. It was hard to watch at times.

BUSTER: So what did you do after that?

MATT: After taps was played I walked out the way I came in and followed the herd.

BUSTER: Ooh. Not a good move. Last time I did that I wound up at a shelter for 11 months!

MATT: I stopped in my tracks when I saw St. Paul's Chapel. Figured I would go inside and check it out. Lots of people there praying, so I joined them. Then they had a service full of politically correct prayers about diversity and other liberal chantings, so I left. Plus, the guy in the balcony with the video camera seemed rather intrusive.

BUSTER: No doubt.

MATT: So I walked around to the rear of the Chapel and found the crackpot, wingnut Bush-haters with their printed tee-shirts and signs making the wildest accusations you could imagine. Also found singing Christians and a prayer station, who by the way seemed much more in tune with God than anyone running that Chapel, IMHO.

BUSTER: So you took more pictures...

MATT: Yes, then I hopped the train back up to Midtown.

BUSTER: Did you see anyone you recognized?

MATT: Well, now that you mention it. While I was waiting to be escorted into the press area, I almost tripped over some lady who was kneeling to take pictures of the singing Mennonites. I was going to say something to her but several people squeezed between us, and then I was ushered out. Turns out that was Urban Infidel, who found plenty of things to photograph on the outside. Also thought I saw Pam from Atlas Shrugs, too. But she didn't look quite the same, so I couldn't be sure enough to walk up to her and say hello.

BUSTER: Too bad. So you hopped the train...

MATT: Yeah, up to Midtown. Wanted to go up to the NewsCorp building to see if I might spot anyone I recognize. Then I saw this painted on a firehouse door on 8th St..

BUSTER: Cool.

MATT: THEN I took a very crowded, jam-packed, sweaty bus back to my car and drove home.

BUSTER: And you were up til 5:30am fiddling about with downloading, uploading, organizing, posting, etc...?

MATT: Yep. Was up for 27 hours. Haven't done that since college. Still feel like crap.

BUSTER: No doubt.

Roller-Coaster Roads In PA

Matt and I have been very busy...driving. Matt does the driving and I...watch. Not much to report these days.

Yesterday we drove down to Hanover, PA on hwy 94, which is a two-lane road. It has many steep hills which stop abruptly at the top and then slope down rather sharply. Needless to say, Matt hit a couple of them rather fast. Usually when we drive down there he hits the brakes just before the top. But on these two he waited until we crested the point and then he hit the brakes. I almost lost my breakfast all over his log book. According to Matt it was like Carl Mauldin in Streets Of San Francisco! Our wheels didn't even touch the ground on one of those flying leaps. The scenery was nice, though. Lots of fruit trees and orchards and the like, which all looked blurry to me for a bit...

We're going home soon so I can jump in my crow's nest and feel tall...like Matt.

TV Dinner

Shameless Plug For A Friend's Book

Okay okay. Matt has this friend from college, some girl he used to know. Her name is Julie and she wrote this novel or something. He says it's well researched and a good read. And if you don't believe him you can go to Amazon and see the ratings. Matt already read it and liked it...even though it's a book for girls!

MATT: Why do I leave this stuff up to you? It is not a chick-book, but a Christian romance novel that would appeal to any Anglophile of either sex, and written in the same vein as your average Jane Austen book. It's well-researched and quite interesting. The story is wonderfully woven and it kept my interest throughout. You know how I often read almost half a book and set it down...and forget about it?

BUSTER: Uh...no. I hadn't noticed....because I can't read.

MATT: And that's a shame. But the book is quite enjoyable.

And So It Goes....

We're back on the road again and Matt is hitting every possible pothole he can find. Yes, I have already thrown up. It was at the end of the first day. Matt fed me too soon, so I barfed. Go figure.

MATT: Well, you were begging so much I figured your appetite was strong enough to hold down some food.

BUSTER: (shaking head) Never never never NEVER listen to me when I do that. You know I can't think straight when it's dinner time. Never feed me the first day back on the road. I will puke every time.

MATT: Yeah, I was hopeful. Sorry.

BUSTER: And what's with force feeding me water?

MATT: The prednisolone dehydrates you...and you don't seem to notice that it impacts your...you know.

BUSTER: My entrails? My juicy intestines?

MATT: I think I'M gonna barf now.

BUSTER: Coooool.

Vomitus Maximus

Well, I couldn't quite make 30 days without puking, but I did go from July 6th to August 4th and then let loose with a huge barf all over Matt's suitcase. He seemed to take it well, wiping it up without cursing this time but bemoaning my missing the 30 day mark.

Last month while on break Matt and I stopped at the Giant to pick up Matt's food items, some of which were thrown carelessly in the trunk of his little white 4-wheeler. When we got back to the apartment it appeared to me that a couple of things were missing as he carelessly threw items in the large cooler thingy. For three days, due largely to the outside heat, Matt stayed with me at home. On the fourth day Matt says he went to the car and opened the door and almost fell over from the stench. When opening the trunk he found the watermelon he forgot to take upstairs. So he threw it out and sprayed the inside of the trunk and 4-wheeler interior with Lysol. It seemed to work.

A couple of days ago when we returned from our tour of the exotic Midwest and Mid-Atlantic states and even Texas and Minnesota in the large red truck thing, Matt had the same experience again with stench in the 4-wheeler. But this time he loaded me and lots of stuff from the truck into the 4-wheeler, went to the same grocery store and got food stuff, then came home. Both of us smelled like the interior of the 4-wheeler by then. Uuugggghhhhh!

The next morning, rather than spray, he decided to empty out the stinky 4-wheeler completely (it had lots of junk in it) so he could wipe it all down. In doing this he found in the trunk an old package of once-fresh-and-delicious, Johnsonville brats (5 to a package, I am told --I can't count that high) buried under other stuff, that had gone VERY BAD over the past month. They were wrapped well, but they turned color and smelled powerfully rancid with old meat juice dripping. Considering the summer heat over the past month, it surprises me that there wasn't a pack of hungry, rabid dogs awaiting our arrival for the opening of the trunk, or perhaps buzzards circling overhead looking for their chance to grab some dead flesh.

With Clorox wipes and LOTS of Lysol spray, Matt hopes he has finally fixed the stinky car situation and that we can travel again without taking on an odor such as this. My money says he'll have to set the 4-wheeler on fire to really fix things. Matt refuses.

A Health Breakthrough?

As of last Monday I am back on Pro Plan for breakfast and dinner. It seems that whenever Matt skips a month in giving me that spot on the back of my neck to kill fleas, ticks, and earmites, I stop puking so much. Every vet we’ve visited told us it couldn’t be the Revolution, that I would have thrown up right away and then stopped. But application of Revolution lasts 30 days, which is about how long my bout with vomiting lasts.

So now we’re trying to reinstitute the Pro Plan cereal back into my diet to see if I can handle that. If I can then Matt will try to wean me off the Prednisone, too. He’s still mixing the Hill’s allergen formula with Pro Plan, so I’m not sailing free yet. But been on it for eight days and no puking, so crossing my toes on this one. I’ve really missed the Pro Plan!

Oops! Watch Your Head!!!

Now this is something that has never happened to us...though it could have. Our truck is very tall.

Technorati And Other Issues

BUSTER: So why the long face??? Oh sorry, you can't help that, can you.

MATT: Have you done time in the kennel lately?

BUSTER: Look, I didn't mean to offend. Don't get all thin-skinned and Obamma'd at me. I just wondered why you look so down.

MATT: I'm not down, just pissed off.

BUSTER: Okay, that's another thing. Are we saying piss now? Is that what we're doing?

MATT: Good point. I am vexed about Technorati rating St. Blogustine a mere 15. I've got 60 blog reactions on St. Blogustine and they still rate me that measly number. And I'm down from 20, which wasn't very high to begin with. I think it's a mistake....you know, to rate St. Blogustine that low.

BUSTER: Really? They rated St. Blogustine too low? What a horrible thing to do to St. Blogustine! I mean, to St. Blogustine no doubt. But I wonder if mentioning your blog so many times in ONE post will change that rating.

MATT: I dunno. Maybe. I mean I guess it won't. Because then I could link almost every word to St. Blogustine without even mentioning the blog name. You know?

BUSTER: Hmm. Yeah, I see. But why bother?.....Let's talk about something else.

MATT: Like?

BUSTER: Like your new diet. Why are you feeding me less while YOU are on a diet?

MATT: I didn't realize I was doing that... You want more food? Sorry, stupid question.

BUSTER: Uh-huh. A little more cereal in that dish would help fill me out if you don't mind.

MATT: Okay, just try to keep it down. You know....no puking.

Pissed In Gary, IN

We were on the road for a couple of days and now we're stranded. Matt says this may happen more often because the truck is getting older. But this sucks. I gotta sit in the kennel because the morons at Freightliner in Gary, IN call their building a "pet free zone." Yeah, I think people in Gary, IN have bigger fish to fry than banning pets from buildings. Try cutting down on all those murders you guys have. And maybe give up doing those home invasions for a time. You might find the quality of life goes up a little more abruptly when you do that instead of banning pets from air conditioned refuges.

The starter has gone out again in the truck. We had to wait 3 hours for some guy from Gary, IN to drive 8 miles in a utility truck to South Holland at the Lincoln Oasis on I-80 to tell us that. Then he attached a chain to our front bumper and pulled us until the truck started. Now we sit at the Gary Freightliner and wait. Matt hasn't showered yet today...and it's kinda hot out. You can imagine he reeks like my litter box about now. And ohhhh...he's in a foul mood today. And mine isn't much better. And the day isn't even close to being over yet...

Update--

Wow, what a difference several hours make. Yes, we are still in Gary, IN and the Freightliner guys are still stupid, but we gots us a hotel room!!! Yeah!!! There is nothing quite like checking into a new place with different carpeting and different curtains and fixtures and other things to scratch! Oh yes! I am having fun here driving Matt crazy. Hey! he got a pizza. I'll try to kick it out of his hands. Ooop! Matt has picked me up and is putting me in my kennel.

BUSTER: Hey! Not so rough.

MATT: Do you know what a little ass you're making of yourself? Do you know I only got 3 hours of sleep last night and 5 the night before?

BUSTER: I wasn't counting...but it seemed like you didn't lay down and breathe heavily for very long.

MATT: No, I didn't. And this room! Eeeewww, the smell....like a whorehouse. They used way too much air freshener in here.

BUSTER: I don't notice. I've been licking my butt for the last hour.

MATT: Eewwwww.

BUSTER: No, really!...squeeky clean!!!

Things That Go BOOM!!!

Today I am hiding under the couch at home from things outside that make a loud and sudden booming noise. I don't know how anyone else can live around that racket, but it has caused me to make several trips to the litter box. Once I almost didn't make it in time.

Matt has assured me that things are better here than in the truck right now, and that it's quieter and safer here at home. He's really full of it. Those kids outside have turned our once quiet street into a war zone. I'm trying to convince Matt to take his .44 mag Ruger Redhawk outside and show those little bastards what a real noise-maker is like. But he refuses. Something about felonious wrongful death or some such hairball junk. I dunno.