Southport Magazine

An Extraordinary Tale of One Cat’s Adventure

Story by Deanna Gross

If circumstances are such that you must, I mean if there’s no way around it, no matter how hard you try, lose a cat during a hurricane evacuation, then do it at Exit 118, off of I-95 in a little community called Thornburg. That’s in Virginia for those of you who don’t know. Mudd Tavern Road to be specific. At least that’s if you make a right off of I-95 going south. It’s also six hours from our home.

That’s what happened to us on October 20th of this year. We lost a cat at the Exxon station. Sissy had been with us eight days in a hotel just up the road in Fredericksburg. To say Sissy doesn’t like to be confined in her carrier is an understatement, and when you consider she had been confined to a hotel staring out the window for eight days as well, you get the picture. And for those who don’t, there was quite a bit of meowish howl, yowl, growl, and meow coming out of the cage. Some biting of the cage itself may also have happened. And the paws (really her claws but I didn’t want to speak too harshly about her), were busy trying to pull anything they could into the cage, including a large blanket and, at times, my fingers. The scars have since healed, in case you are wondering. Maybe we hadn’t given her enough anti-anxiety travel medication?

Now that I think about it, we were paranoid about giving her too little or too much anxiety medicine. It started eight days earlier as we were preparing to leave North Carolina. Our veterinarian had provided us with kitty travel kits for our multiple cats (Sissy, Waylon and Simon). Kurt dutifully mixed the contents of the pill into their food the morning we planned to leave. Unfortunately, not all the food was eaten. I will skip the part about the argument discussion that ensued.

It was decision time. Simon and Waylon had eaten more of their food, but Sissy had eaten very little. How much pill was in the uneaten versus eaten food? Was it mixed evenly? Hard to tell. We gave her another pill.

The pill provided by the vet is called Gabapentin, which I googled and found out is a human drug that is also used in the veterinary field to treat pain or to control seizures; in cats, it is highly effective in reducing fear and anxiety! (My Google find included the exclamation point).

Did I mention my sister, Peggy, was hitching a ride along with her tiny Yorkshire Terrier, Raylan? Raylan was the perfect travel companion – not a peep the entire trip.

I love Kurt – he’s kind, generous, loves all animals, but I’m a little apprehensive about his driving and Peggy gets car sick. It was the perfect opportunity for me to sit in the back with Sissy and our boys. I had nothing else to do but watch the Sissy show! (Note the exclamation point just like in the Gabapentin description).

And what a show it was. She must have ingested more of the original pill than we thought. Plus, I’m a watcher/worrier. For those who are not pet owners this means I watch everything they do and wonder if they’ve done that before and if they haven’t why not and does it mean something is wrong. And should I call my vet?

Within a short time, Sissy was lolling on her back with four paws in the air making slow motion meow yowling sounds in a deeper voice than normal. The watcher/worrier in me took over and I couldn’t take my eyes off the cage. And the longer I watched, the more worried I became, and the show became weirder.

At one point, her nose, resting on the wire door, was holding up her head, teeth bared, as her eyes glazed over. When you touched her she just bounced back like a Weeble Wobble. Then she would bite the wire on the cage like a wild animal. Worry intensified to the point I texted my vet and told her I may have killed my cat. Fortunately, Gabapentin is a very safe medication even at high doses and I was not to worry (fat chance). Did I mention I love love love my vet (and that means all the vet staff)? That was just the start of the trip.

Before our trip home, Sissy had eaten food with half a pill. Six miles into the trip there was a smell coming from Sissy’s cage and she was going berserk. We stopped at exit 118. Sissy saw her opportunity, turned into a wildcat, and blew through an opening in the carrier door. She crossed Mudd Tavern Road and ran into the woods beside the Citgo station. Kurt was stunned for a few seconds but was right behind her. I drove over with the gang in tow.

We immediately knew we were in trouble. Finding her would not be easy – the woods are dense and we couldn’t tell which direction she took. Kurt searched the front area of the woods the rest of the day and night. In the meantime, I called pet-friendly hotels and found the Holiday Inn Express on Dan Bell Lane, immediately across the road from our search area (what great people!).

I also sent texts with Sissy’s photo to the staff at the hotel, the Citgo, and the Exxon. One person at the Citgo posted to Lost and Found Fredericksburg, Spotsylvania.

About 6 p.m. I got a phone call from a woman who said she would meet us to help find Sissy. Because I’m naturally a cynical person, ding ding ding alarm bells went off and “wacko” sprang to mind. Who would volunteer to help complete strangers find their cat? And who would meet complete strangers in the dark at a gas station?  But we were desperate and decided to meet her at the Citgo. We found out the “wacko” was Sissy’s guardian angel.

Trisha brought traps and food to set them. She told me I needed to get signs up and get the word out that Sissy was missing. She wanted pieces of our clothing for the scent to attach to the traps and before we left, she recorded us calling for Sissy.

While we traveled home, Trisha set, washed, reset, washed, reset, caught and released numerous possums and sat with her radio blaring out our voices calling Sissy’s name.

I had yard signs and flyers made and sent to Trisha. I also bought four trail cameras for the woods. On Oct. 1, we drove up to help put up signs and search for Sissy, but Trisha is the one who moved the trail cameras around to search different areas (woods locations, building areas, auto sales areas), rearranged blown over signs, and posted flyers to poles. She checked the memory cards daily on the trail cams and sometimes I think she checked more than once. Trisha also mailed and faxed flyers to local businesses, all while working and working as a volunteer at a local shelter.

I also put an ad on Facebook to reach eight miles out using the Citgo station as the center point. I was inundated with tips – who was feeding cats – where housing developments were located – people indicating they lived nearby and would search and share with all of their friends to look for her. Encouragement came in the way of many recovery stories, so I didn’t lose hope.

On Oct. 15 we drove up to search specific areas. We took one day and walked most of the woods and the electric line path through the woods. We stayed until after dark since dusk and dawn are supposedly the best times for cats to be out, and were up and out early the next morning, concentrating on areas within a half mile of where she disappeared.

We also handed out flyers to businesses again and everyone told us they were looking for Sissy. At 10:30 p.m. one night we got a phone call from Joyce – her tenant may have seen Sissy so why didn’t we come over and check. Joyce lives at an old mill, a beautiful place and close enough that Sissy could have been there. We left a flyer and then went house-to-house on that road the next day. Everyone at each business or house not only let us leave flyers but gave us their cell numbers so we could send pics. In a restaurant one night, we mentioned we were looking for a cat and everyone said “Sissy” at the same time.

Thirty-four days later we had four trail cams, more than 35,000 views on Facebook, 100s of flyers, 26 yard signs, numerous pole signs, a few pissed off possums, one very tired guardian angel, two very tired pet parents (one of whom ugly-cried every day), and still no Sissy.

Day 35 we were at dinner in Southport when I received a phone call from someone named Steven. He had spotted Sissy at his garage. I had texted his uncle’s photos previously, so I knew the place. He described her collar, which was miraculously still on, and her wonky right eye. He had just fed her but couldn’t get closer than six feet. We left that night at 8 p.m.

In the meantime, Trisha hauled traps, salmon, and strips of our clothing, and she sat at the garage for hours, hoping to trap Sissy. We’d found her, but now all of us were scared she would leave the area. Trisha left late after all cat eyes disappeared for the night, and left us supplies hanging in a tree.

Kurt and I arrived at the hotel approximately 2:30 a.m. We threw our bags in the room and left for the garage. It was about 35 degrees, but we had sleeping bags in case we needed to leave the car doors open to tempt her in.

Kurt put salmon on a plate and left it outside the car where he could see it. We promptly fell asleep (totally not part of the plan) and woke up around 4 a.m. Kurt got out of the car and started calling to one of the three cats that were visible about 75 yards away. One came closer and sat about 25 feet away, but we couldn’t tell if it was her. Then Kurt called her again and she meowed. It was her! He kept calling and I got out of the truck. She came to within six feet and then ran back under a car near the tree. Kurt called again, and she came to within two feet of him to eat the salmon.

And that’s when this huge diesel dually truck with a 20-foot trailer attached pulled out of the driveway directly across the street. Sissy took off under our truck. I froze, afraid any movement would scare her and just plain scared to death we weren’t going to get her. Kurt moved the salmon closer, she came out to eat, and he grabbed her and held her.

Not until we got the carrier door closed did we actually believe it was happening.   

There are so many people to thank that I can’t name them all. I will be forever grateful to Trisha, Sissy’s guardian angel, for her guidance and the hard work she put into finding Sissy. I had no idea how to get the word out or what pics to use on the posters. I think Sissy stayed in the area the night we caught her because Trisha was there earlier with our clothes and food. She also played the recording of us calling her. I also admire her for all the work she puts into the shelter and her rescue efforts.

Thornburg is a wonderful little community. Everyone we met or spoke with or chatted with on Facebook was looking for Sissy and sharing her information. I can’t thank them enough. Sissy endeared herself without knowing a single soul and the entire town will always be in my heart for caring. The hotel staff and Trisha visited our last day in Thornburg. We visited with Steven to thank him for finding Sissy.

Sissy’s vet check today was good – she lost a pound. Her blood work looked good – a little anemic but that can be fixed. All in all, a good report. And the staff got to see my ugly happy cry, but they are used to watcher/worrier/ugly crier me.

Cats versus dogs – let’s face it, cats get the lousy end of the stick. They reproduce way faster and they have large litters. And for some reason, people think cats can fend for themselves. Dogs are adopted at a much higher rate than cats, and older cats have it even worse since people love kittens. Please support TNR (trap, neuter, release in your area).

And, finally, a public service announcement. Take pictures of your pets from all sides – right, left, front, back. You think you can recognize your pet until you get a 3-second view on a trail cam. Make sure they are chipped and keep the information up-to-date.

I just purchased a GPS for Sissy, because I am not taking any chances.