BARBRA

Eras begin and eras end. An era began on a beautiful Spring afternoon in 1987 when Kenneth and I were out riding his motorcycle down a country road. "There's a kitten!" Kenneth said, slowing the bike down and turning around. He slowly pulled over to the side of the road. There, coming up from out of the ditch was a very small cream-colored kitten with a white belly and white feet. Most cats or kittens would be afraid of the loud noise of the motorcycle. This kitten ran right up to it and started climbing up our pants legs. That was the beginning of an era.

The end of the era came this evening with a telephone call from the vet, and the word "cancer.... already spread to the liver and the kidneys". Today, Friday, July 24, 1998, the era ended.

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As the kitten climbed up our pants legs, I picked her up into my arms and held her close to me. There was no question but we were taking her home with us. Kenneth started up the bike and I held her behind his back. A short way up the road, she started squirming and wanting to crawl up his back. I tried to hold her but she was very determined, so I let her go. She crawled up over Kenneth's shoulder and wanted to ride up front where she could see where she was going. And there she sat, the wind blowing her ears and whiskers back. All she needed was a white scarf around her neck.

After we got home with her, I looked at her trying to decide on a name for her. She had a rather long nose, so I decided to call her Barbra, after Barbra Streisand, who, incidentally, is my very favorite singer. Later on, Kenneth and I were chuckling about this crazy kitten that liked to ride on the motorcycle.... and she became "Crazy Barbra".

As she grew up, she was a joy to have around. We had other cats, too, so she fit right in. She grew up into a beautiful lady, neither reticent nor presumptuous, but a good friend to have around.

When I got the opportunity to be an over-the-road truckdriver, and after my first month of running team, I began to drive solo. My first trip home after going solo, I decided that I wanted to take a cat with me on the road to keep me company. I chose Crazy Barbra.

For the first 4 days, she stayed back in the sleeper, never daring to come out. I had put her potty pan at the foot of my bunk until she got accustomed to the truck. Once, I parked in a truckstop during the afternoon, and she slowly crept up to the edge of the bunk and looked out. I tried to coax her on out, and she put a hesitant paw out onto the motor box, looking all around. Just about that time another truck drove by in front of us, and ZOOM back into the bunk she flew, not to come out again for a few more days.

Slowly, little by little, she began to get brave enough to venture out into the cab of the truck. She'd sit on the motor box as we drove down the highway. Soon, she began to sit in the passenger's seat, and gradually became more and more at ease with life on a truck.

On occasion, we'd get a motel room, and then she really blew off steam! She'd race and tear all over the room, up and over furniture, running as fast as she could, getting the exercise she was unable to get in the confines of our truck cab. Next morning, she'd be ready to get back on the road. I'd carry her out to the truck, open the door, and she'd leap right up into it. She loved trucking!

Sometimes we had to have work done on the truck.... preventive maintenance, or some repairs. Since we had a cabover style truck, the cab had to be tipped over frontward to gain access to the engine, etc. Barbra would crawl under the blanket in the sleeper and stay there, tipped over at a 45-degree angle. Both doors on the truck could be left wide open, and she'd never try to jump out. People would ask me, "Aren't you afraid she might jump out?" And I'd reply, "You couldn't DRAG that cat out of there.... that's her home."

Barbra was very jealous of other drivers. We were westbound on I-10 one time headed for California. I had been talking with another driver on the CB as we drove out through west Texas, and he invited me to stop at the Petro Truckstop in El Paso and offered to buy me a Mexican dinner. Well, I'm not one to turn down Mexican food, so I agreed. We parked our trucks side-by-side out in the parking lot and we walked inside to the restaurant. Well, surprisingly, the Petro didn't serve Mexican food. The waitress was nice enough to tell us that the 76 Truckstop across the highway did. My companion, whose CB handle was "Bushwhacker", suggested that we drive over to the 76 in his truck. We did that, enjoyed a very good Mexican dinner, and then drove back to the Petro, pulling into the still vacant parking spot next to my truck. As we pulled up alongside, I looked over at my truck; and there, up in the driver's side window was Barbra staring back at me, ears laid back, with a loo

Carrot in mouth. Seat ring on head. Let's do this.