We chose the coastal route from Bar Harbor, Maine to Nova Scotia, Canada. That took us through St. John’s, New Brunswick and lots of small fishing villages. We decided to camp at the Bay of Fundy National Park, which was probably too much extra driving for our quick overnight. (We didn’t get there till dark.) But it was a nice campground and there were pretty scenic views of the bay.
She almost did escape this time.
Mostly, this was just a long two days of driving, and by the second day, Gypsy was climbing the walls (well, the curtains, the screens, our legs…). She has reached that maniacal stage of kittenhood, where she will be all sweetness and purrs one minute and a demon-possessed killer the next. She’s caused me to wonder… can cats have schizophrenia? Is God’s voice telling her that my nose is an abomination? That those very hands stroking her into a state of bliss this moment will squeeze the life from her the next if not annihilated? What has happened to that helpless little furball we bottle-fed for so many weeks? The one that patted our faces with a gentle paw as she drifted to sleep?
Not only are our hands and arms covered with scratches, but we now have to go through great gyrations to enter and exit Bessie without Gypsy. Backing down steps with squirt bottle in hand, shielding the exit with an umbrella. How we will ever keep this creature contained and safe for the next eight months, I can’t imagine.
Cuddle nap.
Adopting this little orphan has presented a lot of challenges, but I must say this trip wouldn’t be the same without her. Even Bailey, who seemed so put out at first, has now warmed to her. When the four of us take walks around the campground or a park, we get to visit with so many people. And when Bailey lets Gypsy snuggle in at naptime, our hearts fill with fur-parent joy.