Joyful Musings: What's Worse Than Being A Cat On A Plane

By SUSAN DROMEY HEETER, InDepthNH.org, InDepth NH

While I was boarding my flight from San Francisco to Boston last week, I waited in line with a woman who was holding not one but TWO cats in carriers. One cat in particular looked - and sounded - in agony, the meows seemed to translate to “GET ME THE F*@K OUT OF HERE!”

The cat was literally upside down in its carrier and, as I stood behind this trio of souls getting aboard, I could only think — what is akin or worse to being a cat on a plane? And today, Joyful Musers, I’ll share some of my insights.

As a former educator who endured many a PowerPoint professional development, when I am in front of slides, of type so small it requires the Hubble telescope to read, I am indeed a Cat on a Plane. I hyperventilate with annoyance and if I could meow with the intensity of a fire engine’s alarm, I would. Cat on a Plane.

When someone touches me as they talk, grabbing my shoulders or taking my hands, I am a Cat on a Plane. I am not touchy, abhor having my space invaded and recoil as if from a hot flame when someone comes in too close. I’m just not a hugger, a toucher and, while I delight in a solid massage, on the street? In the grocery store? No way. Cat on a Plane.

Motorcycles in the spring with their revving engines, smoke and RPMs equal to jet engines create in me the vibe of Cat on a Plane. The cacophony of noise gets too much; when I’m walking outside and a bevy of cycles drives by - the fumes, the intensity, and often the plethora of beards - total Cat on a Plane.

Cigars. Just the smell invites nausea to this Joyful Muser. Last summer when two gents were smoking stogies on a beach, I invited them to abide by the rules of the area and put them out. There was a no smoking sign posted nearby. Sometimes the Cats CAN get off the Plane.

Finally, I muse joyfully those cats made it to Boston, made it to their home after flying from west to east, enduring turbulence and heartlands and clouds and the unbearable suffocation of those carriers. The beauty of Cats on a Plane? It’s temporary, it’s discomfort that ends. I muse joyfully your own Cats on a Plane experiences teach you that all things pass — and that you can meow as loudly as you must during the experience.

Susan Dromey Heeter writes from Newmarket and often from the road where she joyfully muses on life in the fast and slow lanes. She drives a stick shift, can also ride a unicycle and recently retired after 30+ years of teaching. Dromey Heeter finds joy primarily in Milk Duds and people who make her laugh, not necessarily in that order. Follow Susan @dromeyheeter on Instagram and/or @BudgetVogue63. She can also be reached at dromeyheeter@gmail.com.

This story was originally published by InDepth NH.