First this disclaimer:


Once upon a time I thought it would be brilliant to move myself and my animals the 11 hours from Sacramento to Portland. Belle is the travel ready Papillon: Papillon Lookout

(Seen here in the woods on the 2011 Christmas Tree Adventure)  and had already driven 12+ hours up the length of California (Non West coasters: look at a map of the US, see that other coast? Most of that is California and takes half a day to drive up or down. It’s ridiculously big. That’s what I’m trying to express to you.) … and on our many adventures, this had never been a big deal. Sure there was some barking or whining when less than highway speeds…but it was always a fun adventure.

I say all that to tell you this:

Driving with PFCat is hell.
A loud, yowling, howling, self destructive hell.

On his trip up from Sacramento to my hometown (all of 3 hours) he ripped out claws on his beautiful polydactyl feet despite our best medication and nail trimming efforts.

So the 8+ hour drive to Portland had to be different for everyone’s mental health.

My parents took Belle up so she could happily ride in the truck away from the yowling self destructive polydactyl mess that is the cat.

The derptastic Kitteh (aka PFCat):


After many months of jokes and smart ass remarks, I was left without many good ideas for moving him and suddenly, we were moving. So I begged the vet for kitteh drugs that would keep him more sedated since the other meds were primarily for anxiety. Come to find out, the kitteh drug reccomended was Benadryl. They gave me a marked syringe to squirt the measured amount into his mouth to help him (and me) make it through the drive.


Drugged kitteh, check.

Time to drive North!!

… And not even reach the city limits before drugged kitteh rips through the protective barriers I’ve put in his crate. Cue the cursing under my breath and anxious worries that this trip won’t be possible.


I vet wrapped baby socks to his front legs.

It fucking worked.

8+ blissful hours of a drugged cat occasionally crying but primarily sitting grumpily in his crate.

So, should we ever move long distances again? Baby socks, all the way.

And now you know the story, of moving Prince Floyd Cat.

(For the record, he had no ill effects from the Benadryl OR the baby socks. I was careful not to cut off his circulation and monitored him the whole trip up for signs of increasing stress. )