Hello again Count! I'm somewhere east of I95 and west of I45 in other words the cat is lost. But I have to say that truckers are wonderful people as humans go (No slight intended to you), and they have treated me very well. They get me saucers of milk, and even cans of food and I get to ride shotgun with them in their cabs. They talk to me as we ride along. It's a lonely job and they welcome company. I pick one at the truck stop who seems to be going the way I want to go and I wait until the driver comes out and I go up and rub his leg (see picture)...I then walk over to his truck and climb up on the running board and meow loudly. Well, they get the message, open the door and let me hop in.I sit up there looking out like I know what I'm doing. They rub my head and call me "Buddy" and we hit the road. As we are rolling down the highway, they rub my head and tell me their problems. My presence, and I am a large, handsome cat, seems to relieve the stress of piloting one of these giant ships of commerce. God bless 'em, they are a hardy, generous, group of humans and I see a truck stop coming up at a small town that looks interesting. I may have to leave my new friend Bubba behind and check it out. Oh, meant to tell you, the downtown mansion I was interested in at the last stop was a dud. Its owner was a little, old gray-haired lady who had a house full of (Yuk!) Yorkshire Terriers! So, I'm sitting here with Bubba thinking of Fluffy.
Hope to let you know how this burg works out the first the week.
Strutz the Cat