The trouble with Jasper

Jasper, a few hours before the jail break

On Saturday night, first night here, we returned from dinner to Jasper the motor home cat, sleeping on the dash. It did not take long for all of us to get busy with this or that, and at some point Jasper slipped out the door and was gone. Keep in mind this is a cat who has NEVER been outside, so one can image what the big world must look like to him. He has no reference point for getting back to the rig, since he's never seen it much from ground level.

Add a busy and noisy RV park on a Saturday night, fireworks going off, kids and dogs everywhere, and the end result is a freaked out cat, nowhere to be found. By the time we realized he was gone, around 9 pm or so, we were planning to call it a night and get some sleep before the 3:30 am alarm. Jasper's flight changed everything, and we spent the next 1.5 hours searching for him, burning up flashlight batteries. We roamed the park several times, no cat.

My dad and step mom love this cat for several different reasons. First is that he is just a cool cat, no question. He replaced Ajax, who was hit when he got too close to a busy road. Jasper's sister Sophie had a feline infection that was too much for her, so she was put to sleep. Dad needed some good cat Karma, but it was not forthcoming. Suddenly the ride became secondary to finding Jasper, so we all went to bed, exhausted and sick at the idea that the cat was gone. Conventional wisdom states that it is best to leave the cat at home when bumping around in an RV. If the cat gets out, it is gone.

Sunday morning, we loaded everything in the car, and while searching for the start point down at the marina, Phyllis my step mom called. She went out into the park, 5 am. A few hushed calls to Jasper elicited a loud MEOW, which led her to a rig two spaces down. Phyllis had the wisdom to go out into the quiet park, the only time you can hear anything as soft as a cat's meow. She called us in the car with the news, just as we found our takeoff point. With park security, a few fellow travelers and dad returning to the scene, they discovered that Jasper had crawled up under a motor home and wedged himself headfirst between a small corridor of space between the gas tank and frame. He could not back out, nor was he interested in any coaxing and protested with load traumatic cat screams.

Out of ideas, Phyllis decided to locate the nearest fire department. A call did no good, as the fire station was just starting the morning shift change. She then got in the car, drove to the station and said the magic words, "we might have to remove the gas tank." This got their attention, and off they went to the park to save Jasper. After just 30 minutes and a tag team effort, an unwedged Jasper found himself back in dad's firm grip, seemingly fine about the whole affair.

Rescued at last. Who's Happier, Dad or Jasper?

Phyllis called us at the moment of rescue, as we rode up Alpine blvd away from the Pacific coast. In an instant our motivation for the ride came flooding back, knowing that Jasper was safe, dad and Phyllis had their travel partner back, and we had a second chance at keeping the cat inside.

Over and out