To get our name out in the community, we would sometimes take cats to events.  Auroara was always a big hit because she was a tiger and she was easy to travel with because she had been raised in the house, slept in my bed, and trusted me.  She trusted me too much in fact.

 

After one such event, where we had taken her in a box truck, she wouldn’t come down the same narrow ramp (like they use for people to roll a hand truck up and down) she’d gone up to get in the truck.  It looked a lot scarier on the down slope than the up slope, I guess.  The clock was ticking and we were supposed to be inside, but Auroara wasn’t budging.  I had her leash in my hand and had been coaxing with praise and even food, but nothing was working.

 

Jokingly, I turned to her, arms outstretched and said, “Well jump then.  Momma will catch you.”

 

In the flash of an eye she did!  When she did, all 200 + pounds of her landed on my chest and knocked us both to the pavement .  She just about knocked the wind out of me and I thought she’d broken every bone in my body, but it turned out she was the one who actually got hurt.  She scuffed her paw pads on the pavement and I felt so bad about it, I vowed to never take her in vehicle where she would be fearful again. 

 

Auroara loved riding in the car because she had an obsession for the wind in her face.  As a cub you could send her into total bliss by pointing a blow dryer in her direction.  If you wanted her to sit still, just point a fan at her. 

 

We had a utility van briefly, that I thought was a great way for transporting Auroara to and from events because she could run free in the back, and there was a metal grate to keep her from climbing all over me while I drove.  I looked in the rear view mirror to see her peeling back the grate, like a sardine can lid, and that was her last road trip.