File this under the "Why Didn't I Think of This?" category
Yesterday, en route to the office, I joined the normal crush of people on the red line platform at Gallery Place, when I noticed a few backpackers who were damn near bent over, trying to counterbalance their bags. One of them was a fairly young girl who had a backpack nearly as big as she was, plus she had a sleeping bag rolled up and hooked up to the back. She was almost at a 45 degree angle and I looked at her, trying to determine when exactly she'd tip over backwards, when I noticed something perched on top of her bag.
It was a black cat with white paws, harnessed up and leashed off and quite possibly the most mellow cat I've ever seen. If you've had the pleasure of travelling through Gallery Place during rush hour, you can imagine how crowded the platforms get; if you haven't had that pleasure, imagine a surly crowd five people deep and about a 100 yards long who are late for work and annoyed at the metro. But this cat was just taking everything in stride: it rolled on its back, kneaded the bag a little, walked around, allowed itself to be petted, and generally seemed to be enjoying life from top of the backpack. I thought maybe the train rushing in would startle it but the cat didn't even appear to notice. I *never* would have thought to go backpacking with my cat; I know what I'm doing this summer! (Not really - I think I'm past the stage where I can put up with backpacking/hostels/that whole scene. Plus Shrapnel is needed at home to patrol the kitchen and kill mice. He got four more last week, and yes, we have the exterminator coming out. AGAIN. Third time's the charm, we're hoping. The worst thing was that the cat keeps bringing his trophies to me and what I feared the most happened on Friday: I stepped on one. I thought at first it was one of the dog's toys and then realized JESUS JESUS MOUSE. Fortunately I was wearing slippers, because if I'd been barefoot, I would still be bleaching my foot. Gah. Anyways, where was I? Right: no backpacking trips for the cat and me in the near future.)
It was a black cat with white paws, harnessed up and leashed off and quite possibly the most mellow cat I've ever seen. If you've had the pleasure of travelling through Gallery Place during rush hour, you can imagine how crowded the platforms get; if you haven't had that pleasure, imagine a surly crowd five people deep and about a 100 yards long who are late for work and annoyed at the metro. But this cat was just taking everything in stride: it rolled on its back, kneaded the bag a little, walked around, allowed itself to be petted, and generally seemed to be enjoying life from top of the backpack. I thought maybe the train rushing in would startle it but the cat didn't even appear to notice. I *never* would have thought to go backpacking with my cat; I know what I'm doing this summer! (Not really - I think I'm past the stage where I can put up with backpacking/hostels/that whole scene. Plus Shrapnel is needed at home to patrol the kitchen and kill mice. He got four more last week, and yes, we have the exterminator coming out. AGAIN. Third time's the charm, we're hoping. The worst thing was that the cat keeps bringing his trophies to me and what I feared the most happened on Friday: I stepped on one. I thought at first it was one of the dog's toys and then realized JESUS JESUS MOUSE. Fortunately I was wearing slippers, because if I'd been barefoot, I would still be bleaching my foot. Gah. Anyways, where was I? Right: no backpacking trips for the cat and me in the near future.)
posted by Her Ladyship @ 9:41 AM
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