The Nightmare Ride: A TNR Tale

There were at least a hundred of us. Tricked by a can of tuna and trapped in spring-loaded cages. Within hours we were loaded into a trailer pulled by a big white truck. When the door closed, a small light came on and despair set it.

The truck fired up, the trailer lurched and Cindy, a lovely white cat from D Street, let out a yowl. Gravel, then pavement and we were off.

I was sure I knew every cat in town but I was wrong. There were cats of every ilk from streets and courts and avenues that I had never heard of.  And as we glided down the highway, a slow simmering dread filled the space. We had no idea where we were going or what was happening. And we were all terrified. Everyone except for Cowboy.

Cowboy, a big, mean Tom Cat, was sleeping in a cage directly across from me. His cage was larger than everyone else’s but still too small for him. Cowboy did not look homeless. He looked like a cat that got three squares a day.

“How goes it?” I said.

Cowboy opened his eyes to a slit and stretched the best he could. Then he sneezed and I almost jumped out of my skin. We had crossed paths before.

“What’s up?” Cowboy replied. “Aren’t you Garfi?”

“Garfield. Yeah," I replied.

Cowboy looked at my ear—the one he wrecked. No remorse.

“What do you think is going on?” I asked.

Cowboy shrugged.

“Well, do you think it’s bad or good?

“With people, you never know. But probably good.” He replied.

A slight murmur rippled through the trailer. Hopeful.

“Good?” I questioned.

“Yeah. I bit one of them and they didn’t kill me so I think we’re alright,” Cowboy said. 

“How…why…did you do that?” Cindy asked from across the aisle. 

“I was caught in one of those little traps. They brought in this bigger one and tried to move me over. The rookies failed and I got away but there was no way out of the room. So I bit the guy and then just walked into the cage.”

Jasper, a cantankerous cat, from Trenton Drive laughed but then abruptly stopped when Cowboy’s eyes turned a vivid green. No one laughed at Cowboy.

The Trenton Drive clowder was a semi-feral group that only allowed a few people to touch them. They had been gathered and placed in a big plastic box with a wire door. Mario, a skinny tabby, had backed himself up so hard he was doing a handstand in the corner of the box.  When he finally fell, he landed on Jasper, who promptly gave him a few solid baps on the head. 

“T. N. R. I heard them talking about it,” I said. “Any idea what it means?”

“Not sure,” Cowboy replied. 

Jasper chimed in from the corner. “The Nightmare Ride! T. N. R. That’s what it stands for.”

“That’s dumb,” said Cindy. “A nightmare ride. Stop talking.”

“Why are you even here?” Jasper asked. “We’re all homeless but…don’t you have a mom?”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Cindy said indignantly. “My mom had been talking to that dark-haired, do-gooder girl. She said no but then the girl made a promise. Some kind of promise. And my mom changed her mind. I think she gave us…”

Cindy’s cat brother, Pickle shouted, “MOM WOULD NOT GIVE US AWAY!”

“Then why are we here Picky?” Cindy spit. 

“JUST STOP. SHE DID NOT GIVE US AWAY. IT’S JUST A ROAD TRIP!” Pickle cried.

“You don’t even know what that is,” Cindy said.

“SO!” Pickle said. “MOM WOULD NEVER!”

“What exactly did your mom say, Pickle?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know anything,” Cindy said.

“I DO SO! MOM SAID WE WERE GONNA TAKE A ROAD TRIP, HAVE A NEW TOUR, AND THEN GO BACK HOME! THE DO-GOODER PROMISED! MOM PROMISED!” Pickle shouted frantically.

“A what?” I asked. 

“A road trip. A new tour. And then home? Well, that just sounds…” Jasper said.

“A new tour? Well, what the heck is that?” I said to no one in particular.

Cowboy suddenly burst out laughing. Everyone stared, waiting for the revelation. Milking the moment, he continued to laugh until there was only a chuckle left in him. He drew in a big breath and tried to shake which is hard to do when you’re a chubby cat in a tight space.

“Not NEW TOUR, which is not even a thing. The word is neuter. We’re all going for a neuter.” Cowboy proclaimed.

“So the N stands for NEUTER? What’s a neuter?” Jasper asked.

“Well, it’s when you go to a hospital, then you go sleep, then you wake up and your testicles are gone,” Cowboy said.

A collective gasp rippled through the trailer. 

“I don’t have testicles,” said Cindy.

Cowboy shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I know.”

“So if N stands for NEUTER, what do the T and the R stand for?" I wondered aloud.

THE NEUTER RIDE!” Jasper shouted excitedly.

“You’re ridiculous,” Cindy said.

“And you don’t have testicles!” Jasper countered. 

“Thank you for cat-splaining that to me,” Cindy said condescendingly.

“T stands for TRAP! That’s it!” I shouted. “Look at all of us. We’re in traps!”

“TRAP NEUTER RIDE?” Jasper mused. “I like it.”

“Does it matter what TNR stands for?” Cindy asked. 

“So first they trap us and then they neuter us. So what does R stand for?” I pondered.

Just then, the engine rumbling slowed and the trailer came to a halt. When the door opened, a whole army of do-gooders appeared and started passing the traps and carriers out of the trailer, in assembly-line fashion. 

The traps were placed onto big wire shelves and then wheeled into a building.

The dark-haired, do-gooder girl found Cindy and Pickle and made a little spot for herself on the floor next to their traps. I heard her murmuring to Cindy who was yowling again.

“Don’t cry, little girl. You’re safe and sound,” she said. 

“That’s easy for her to say,” Jasper whispered. “I bet she doesn’t have any testicles either.”

“Everyone is going to be fine,” Cowboy shouted, annoyed. “Ya’ll will feel much better when it’s over.” 

“What do you think they’ll take from me since I don’t have testicles?” Cindy asked.

“I don’t know,” Cowboy replied. “Probably the same thing they’re going to take from me when they discover that someone already took my testicles.”

The End