In an RV, it’s important to know how to handle those pesky backseat drivers.
Tiny little drops of red on the white tile. We thought he was eating something he shouldn’t until we saw the blood. Meeko was licking his paw, trying to soothe a torn dewclaw that was hanging precariously off his foot.
Some quick Googling and a short phone call revealed that Stowe Veterinary Clinic was close by and open. We followed a hunched elderly woman with pink sneakers – and her equally elderly sausage dog – into the building. She told the receptionist that her husband didn’t like her to be out after dark. The receptionist assured her that Fido would be ready for pick-up well before sundown. We were next after Grandma Pink Sneakers, and Dr. Goodson took us into an exam room within minutes. It had to be some kind of speed record because we’d never been seen that fast in Vegas or in Milwaukee where the last pet emergency had occurred.
It also turned out to be the cheapest vet visit ever. Pulling Meeko’s bad claw, applying ointment and a bandage, and giving us a rainbow-striped leash and excellent advice about how to handle Meeko’s situational aggressiveness set us back a mere $47. Part of it was that Meeko was thoughtful enough to hurt himself on a weekday. Charlie’s raging ear infection, as evidenced by him repeatedly stumbling and restlessly roaming the RV while yowling continuously, came to a head on a Sunday. So we had emergency fees to pay along with extensive testing (could the oddly dilated pupils be a brain tumor?) and antibiotics. Several hundred dollars later, Charlie was a new cat, and our bank account was wiped out.
No vet visit is complete without recovery treats. We found some at the Cabot Annex Store in Waterbury. Strange – considering it’s a cheese place, and these nibbles were entirely fromage-free. They were just too cute to pass up, and of course, we had to get one for Sadie, too. While Meeko was the patient, Sadie was suffering at home, worrying for her brother. Or, at least, that’s what we told ourselves. Treats were given out, heads were patted, bark babies were cooed over, and all was well with the world after our first visit to a country vet.
Note: We all know that an emergency fund for rig issues is important. But if you have pets, it’s a good idea to set aside some extra money for emergencies for them, too. Pet insurance may also be a good option, although I don’t know if it’s accepted everywhere and in every circumstance.
It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s the latest and greatest in must-have RV accessories. It’s the Purr-alator!
This cuddly contraption is a three-in-one motorhoming godsend. It warms your seat as it quiets annoying road noise with a soft, steady purr – all while gently removing grime and grit with an exfoliating wash. Don’t head out on the road until you have your very own Purr-alator!
Ours is the ‘Charlie’ model. It was a highly successful, one-of-a-kind prototype that’s no longer available, but not to worry! You can pick up an equally efficient version, in a range of color choices, at the local purveyor of repurposed pets.
Easy to maintain with a high return on investment, no motorhome should be without one! Take good care of your Purr-alator, and it will last for over two decades like ours has. Pick up a Purr-alator today for a lifetime of whiskered wellbeing!
We waited until nearly the last minute to introduce our cat, Charlie, to the RV. He’s a scrawny, 22-year-old with a recent lion cut, whose feistiness belies his advanced age. He’s a little hard of hearing and can’t jump as high as he used to, but other than that, you’d never know he’s an old man.
After Mike cut a hole in the cabinet door, we tucked a small litter box under the sink. Then, we brought Charlie to the rig two days ago, while we were parked at Main Street Station. He figured the bathroom facilities out right away. Smart boy!
Last night, our adventure officially began as we rolled out of Vegas around 8:15 p.m. Charlie immediately staked out a spot on the dash, a live bobble head illuminated by the glow of oncoming headlights. We made it to a rest area, just south of Cedar City, Utah, around 12:30 a.m., boondocking for the first time. We parked amongst the 18-wheelers, walked the bark babies and then fell into bed, with Charlie purring by our heads. When we woke around 8:30 this morning, Charlie was once again on the dash, behind the privacy curtains, looking out at the world. He remains there as we motor down the highway.