We would be gone on a long car trip, and what to do with the cat? Take him. We would be staying in our travel trailer, but what about outdoor time for the cat? Get him a leash?
Get him a leash.
We found one that went around his shoulders, a real harness.
Not long after, in summer 1996, we found ourselves at Cape Breton Highlands National Park, Nova Scotia. We wanted to go for a walk. And after so much time in the car, so did Toby.
We had traveled 3500 miles from home to be there, a favorite from decades earlier. The Atlantic Ocean was nearby, a pleasant hike to a beach, alongside a stream that at times was a trickle, at other times a fast-running torrent.
The day we arrived, rain inland was driving a broad and powerful flow of water from bank to bank. We kept back from the edge, though enjoying the sharp blast of moisture in contrast with our desert home.
But not Toby. He found the swiftly running water irresistible. He plunged in and started swimming.
We pulled him back, of course.
But he wasn’t having it. He strained against the harness and used all his energy to surge ahead. It was hard to hold on.
But if the harness failed, or if our hands slipped, or if we gave up, he would be swept out to sea.
Which didn’t happen. We were of course the stronger beings, even if our will was perhaps not as great.
We hauled him in and carried him back to the trailer. And in the intervening 25 years we have not met anyone we’ve told this story to who has had a cat behave this way.
I know that tigers swim, but I think most cats don’t. But if yours has a love of swimming across raging rivers, I’d like to hear about it.
I wish I had a photo….
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Peg Lewis is a great-grandmother, a linguist, and a life-long writer and scientist. She was born in New England. She also lived in San Diego, Spain, Switzerland, Beijing, New Zealand, and the Pacific Northwest. She currently resides in Tucson in a 3-generation household where she is next-to-oldest.
