On Cats and Moonroofs
Yesterday’s post/podcast brought e-mails from wonderful people embarrassed about having made a mistake that led to either a terrible scare, or a terrible tragedy. They reminded me that I, too, made a mistake that I’d like to share, and I hope you will pass along to everyone you know. If you have a moonroof/sunroof, always close it, no matter where you are when you park your car, turn it off, and get out if it.
My story took place on a Saturday afternoon in July of 1998, at the home of a friend. I had a hunter green 1996 Saab 900 (no leather!) with a moonroof. I parked the car half under the shade of a giant oak tree and went in for a visit. While I was in the house, my friend’s cat, Budhi, hopped onto my hood, hiked up to the roof, and jumped into the car via the moonroof (which, obviously, I had neglected to close). It was probably 94 degrees outside the car. Several hours later, I left the house to go home and got in the car and there was Budhi, unconscious, tongue hanging out, on the passenger side floor. I thought she was dead, as animals tend to die in my presence, but that’s another story.
I called a vet friend, who said I might have very little time (and she was on her way). She told me to soak a towel in cool water, wrap Budhi in it (not too tightly), place her in front of a fan (preferably on tile or stone rather than carpet), and try to drop water into her mouth via dropper (preferably not a glass one, as that can create an entirely different, potentially lethal problem)/syringe/turkey baster/whatever it took (and if none of those is available, you can wet a hand towel and wring out a corner to produce a steady couple of drops at a time). Budhi immediately came around and fully recovered within 24 hours.
Moral of the story? Whether or not you have a cat or know anyone who does, if you have a moonroof, make sure you close it when you park your car, wherever you go. Yes, the car will be hotter when you return to it than if you’d left the roof open. But cats, raccoons, and all manner of creatures can become trapped if they cannot make the leap necessary to exit the car the way they entered it. And the feeling you get the moment you realize somebody has been trapped in your vehicle, slowly dying, is one you want to avoid. Trust me.
Along with our 2 spoiled rescue dogs we have 4 cats and a recently rescued rabbit (who has put all of us in our place). Our eldest cat absolutely loves to go in the car and will swat at us when we return home refusing to leave. One evening our younger sons friend stopped over to pick him up for a night at the opera. They were half way to their destination when Kala (our naughty) kitty popped up from the back seat. Shannon, our son, was so surprised, but more so completely freaked out that she would have been locked in the car for at least 4 hours in extreme heat. Dan (his friend) had left the sun roof open because of the warm weather and Kala had managed to jump in during the few minutes he was at our home. Had Kala stayed hidden, like she has done so many times she most likely would have perished from the heat. She is my favorite of all of our companions and I would have never forgiven myself had she died. Thank you Mary for bringing this potential nightmare to our attention, as many of us forget so easily our vulnerable our little friends are.
Wow, I never would have thought about that. Granted I don't have a sunroof or moonroof, but I'm definitely going to spread the word to my friends about this. I bet otherwise most people wouldn't think about this unless they had a similar tragedy or scare happen to them. I'm so glad Budhi was okay! (And Kala too!)
That was a close one for Kala, eh? I'm actually writing a book about all of the animals I killed or nearly killed, by accident, and particularly while trying to help them. It's no surprise that most publishers and agents are like: a) what is WRONG with you? and b) very few people are going to buy a book knowing that most of the animals are going to die.
I shall not be silenced, however. I shall find a way to tell my stories. I may even use my blog, who knows?
This is not near car-death story, however, I did almost kill my dog, Lulu—a Boston Terrier—two summers ago. I took her to a field to play ball on the first (very) warm day of spring. Because I had walked there (and it was only a quarter mile from my house), I didn't take water with me—or anything else along with me, for that matter. Lulu is obsessed with playing ball; seems to be built in to her. And lucky for her, I love to play ball, too. I threw the ball for her for 45 minutes, and all of the sudden, she just passed out, started foaming at the mouth, and I thought she had died, right on the spot. This was my first (and only) experience of truly feeling led by something; I picked her up, and literally ran as fast as I could to my house; I dropped her in the kitchen sink, pouring cold water over her body, and almost miraculously, she "came back to life." Fortunately, I, myself, didn't almost pass out until Lulu was back to her old self; that's when I thought I would faint from the weight of panic.
Lulu, now at 9 year's old, has severe arthiritis; just found out about it this summer. She has no visible symtoms—no stiffness or trouble getting around—but an imaging study revealed that her spine is in terrible shape. No more ball, obviously. Now we are inventing new, low-impact games, which will probably never take the place of ball, in Lulu's mind. She's taken a liking to playing tug-of-war with her sister, Delilah—a feisty, ten year old chihuahua who always plays to win. And if she's not winning, she scares the bejesus out of Lulu so she drops her end of the rope. Funny. Moral of the story: the chihuahua always wins.
Where was I going with this?
Oh, yes! Take water with you everywhere you go.
I once accidentally rolled up the back window while our greyhound still had her head sticking out. Turning and seeing that as I was holding that button down, the window was trapping her there, choking and cutting into her, gave me one of the worst feelings of horror I've ever experienced. I was so scared that I'd hurt her. I was shaking terribly, and I nearly vomited. She, on the other hand, jumped out of the car, ran into the dog park, and played to her heart's content like nothing had ever happened. And I didn't let myself get irritated at her for anything (and she's a prissy prima donna who can easily evoke irritation) for days.