Laura and I have three cats. We can’t have children right now — or are actively preventing it, I should say, using methods uniformly more effective than those I have seen lead to some interesting child-rearing experiences — so we have cats instead.

I love our cats in an abstract way. They’re not people. They’re more like objects. They definitely have minds of their own, and do things that make even children seem logical and tame by comparison.

Nothing, however, prepared me for today. Today was The Great Dashboard Caper.

Laura was taking our second cat, Qubit — named after the quantum bit; and yes, she decodes 128-bit SSL in her spare time, if it’s covered in gravy — to the vet to have her claws yanked out and her uterus disposed of. Laura was carrying her in the usual cardboard carrying case, the same one we’ve had since we had the cats. Little did she know that Qubit had gnawed her way through the cardboard, planning an elaborate escape from the vet, an escape that eventually led to her wedging herself up in the car, behind the glove compartment, so far up that we could barely touch her when we reached in to see if she was still alive.

All attempts to extricate her failed. She seemed absolutely stuck. She didn’t want food, she didn’t want treats, and she most certainly seemed not to want her female bits tossed in the trash.

Ten hours later I was home from work, Qubit still stuck behind the glove compartment. I decided to do the inevitable and remove the glove compartment. Now, General Motors, in their infinite wisdom, decided to make our entire dashboard out of one gigantic piece of molded plastic, held in place with alternating Torx bolts and regular hex screws. I headed to Home Depot to buy some Torx drivers — I’ve never had to take a car apart before, you see — and an adjustable wrench.

Finally, I gave up. There was no way I was going to do it. So I took the car to Canadian Tire and they took out the airbag, revealing… balled-up cat. I performed the cattectomy the only way I knew how: By pulling really, really hard. She finally popped out of the hatch only to immediately dig her claws deep into my forearms. I crammed her into the new plastic case Laura had bought, and left to get myself some scotch.

She’s currently running around the house, a little jazzed from all the excitement, but seemingly in good spirits.

Now… she back to peeing in our plants. Way to go!

Tags: canadian tire, cats, general motors, pets