Wacky Wednesday--Lenora Worth

I thought I'd tell y'all a little tale of suspense. This is a true story. I know because it happened to me. I have a cat named Cujo. Cujo came to us as a kitten fourteen years ago. She was a gift to our daughter for her 20th birthday. Of course, our daughter moved away but Cujo stayed with us. Through the years, Cujo Kitty has been the source of several funny stories. But this one is a biggie!

One night a few years ago, I was rushing around (as usual) preparing to attend our annual UMW (United Methodist Women) salad supper. I'd made a big salad, but on a skirt and blouse and was gathering things to leave and get to the church before the food was blessed. At this time, I drove a Montana van because our son was playing baseball and yes, I decided to be sensible and buy a mini-van. Anyway, I called goodbye to my family, grabbed my purse, my salad and my keys and loaded up the van. Then I hurriedly backed out of the drive, only to see a car on an adjoining street blinking its lights at me. Since it wasn't dark yet, I guessed the woman wasn't happy I'd backed out onto the main street before she could turn onto it. So now she was following me, determined to send me a message since she kept flashing her lights. It had not been a good day, so I was in no mood to discuss this. She followed me onto yet another street, her lights still flashing. Never one to back down from a confrontation, I finally stopped and rolled down the window. When she pulled up beside me, I said, "What is it?" She pointed and said, "Your cat is on top of your van." Embarassed, I jumped out and sure enough, there was Cujo, meowing at the top of her lungs and running back and forth over the luggage rack. "Thank you so much," I said in a sheepish tone to the nice lady. She just laughed and drove off. I had to plea with Cujo to come down. Of course, by now I was sweating and I was late for the salad supper. Finally, I nabbed her by a leg and hauled her into my arms. "Get in the van," I said. "And don't step on my salad." She meowed her own agitation, and I'm pretty sure she was telling me how scary it was holding on for her life as I zoomed down the street. I circled back and opened the door then let her into the house. "That'll teach you to stay off my van," I said, petting her before I dropped her inside the back door.

After that, Cujo walked a wide path around that van, let me tell you. To this day, she rarely gets near a car. And she hates trips to the vet. Later, I got a sweet little Miata but she never got a chance to ride in it. Our daughter's dog, Sassy, loved the Miata and once when we "dog-sat" her down in Florida, we piled her into the boot of that tiny car and hauled her up to visit relatives in Georgia. I guess it depends on the animal. Cats don't ride very well; dogs go wherever they think food might be. Things like that seem to happen on a Wacky Wednesday for some reason. Have you ever had a pet get into a spot of trouble? Tell me I'm not the only one who took a black cat for a ride atop a Montana van???