Two air disasters on one flight
Hi, and good to be with you again after my last blog about my brief visit to Africa with my friend Marmalade, a cosmic cat. As you’ll know, after this trip, I was very excited, and worked closely with Serge to plan my first ever flight to Africa.
So, after discussing Serge’s baggage, we decided on what he would be bringing for me. As I always travel light, we agreed on just a few items that he’d put in his backpack, which would be carried onto the plane as hand luggage. In it would be: The harness that Serge wears on his chest to carry me around in over short distances; my battery-powered food bowl, which opens automatically as soon as the identification chip in my neck gets close to it; a small water bottle; my squashy basket, with its comfy padding to ensure that I sleep well, especially at night; my brush – because, as a Norwegian Forest cat, I get a good brushing every day; a pair of tweezers, a must for removing thorns, ticks and spikey grass seeds; and a small bottle of disinfectant. (One never knows when this might be necessary.) Finally, a dog whistle was slipped into a side pocket. Serge uses this sometimes to attract my attention when I’m off, out exploring. (Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I’ve never worn a collar, nor a lead.)
For our flight, there was a seat reserved for me, next to Serge’s. After all, the flight time was expected to be almost 10 hours, so sleeping well was obviously a must!
And, as part of my preparations, over the weekend I spent quite a bit of time talking to Jeep. I wanted to hear some of his stories about his life in Africa, and along the way, he finally told me why he absolutely hates flying . . . and you couldn’t make this up! The reason was that when he was young, and had already lost one of his legs – probably from a crocodile attack – Serge’s mother rescued him in the jungle near a large lake, and decided to take him home to be a family pet, and a garden gardian.
So, for the journey back there, Jeep found himself stuffed into a sack. However, not being used to sacks, he managed to escape onto the floor of the small aeroplane they were in. And somehow, while he was crawling around, he managed to get himself completely stuck under one of the rudder (steering) pedals, meaning that neither he nor the pedals could move at all. This created havoc, with the plane rising and diving wildly for a few minutes as the pilot fought to get him unstuck. Understandably, Jeep soon felt extremely airsick, and hence his deep fear of flying.
Finally, the day of our departure arrived, and Florence drove us to the airport, stopping first at a field nearby, to give me a good run – if you get my drift. And then, after unloading the car, she gave us each a BIG hug, before saying goodbye.
I’ll spare you all the boring bits about being at the airport, except to say that I followed Marmalade’s advice and let Serge carry me around in the harness all the time. Just as well, not only because of the vast volume of humans milling around everywhere, but also because there were several extremely large security dogs roaming around too. These seemed to wanted to sniff everything they could see, and as you may remember from Book 1 (https://www.magicgraffi.com/s-projects-side-by-side), I’m not at all good when it comes to being sniffed by dogs. Anyway, despite my very loud and deep warning growl, stupidly, one decided to try his luck. The result being that he quickly backed off yiping after I caught him with a left paw straight across the nose, followed by a sharp right claw. Result: Graffi 1 – Dog 0!
Then, after standing around for what seemed like ages, we eventually got into the plane and found our seat numbers. I had an aisle seat – about halfway up the plane, on the right-hand side, when looking towards the front from the tail end that is. And Serge, whose seat was next to mine, was really kind and unpacked my basket – which I jumped into immediately – before sitting down himself and giving me several reassuring caresses.
The flight crew were extremely friendly, and treated me as a VIC – Very Important Cat, of course – and I was showered with strokes and yummy tickles until we got ready for takeoff. The lift-off was not at all what I'd imagined - shuddery and unbelievably noisy – and that’s not to mention the horrific screams that came from the little baby, two rows up on the other side of the aisle, as we rose up into the sky. This was so bad that I had to put my paws over my ears to try to block out the sound, and even that wasn’t terribly successful, especially once my ears had popped.
That was one thing, but what I hadn’t expected at all was that the baby’s young, and evidently inexperienced mother, wanted to tap the baby on the back every time it started to cry, supposedly to help it go to sleep. Inevitably, this had exactly the opposite effect, and what was worse was that each time it seemed to be dozing off, she tapped it again, restarting the whole process. All of us passangers nearby quickly got seriously fed-up with this, until a tall, and very patient airhostess, came to our, and to the mother’s, rescue. Bringing a small hammock with her, she attached this to one of the overhead, luggage holder doors, just above the mum’s head. Then, she placed the baby in it very gently, where it fell asleep immediately, followed a few minutes later by its exhaused mother.
That was the good news! But I’m sure you know that silly question about, ‘Which would you like first, the good news or bad news?’ Well now, soon after us passengers had fallen asleep too and were cruising along smoothly in level flight, and dreaming peacefully about who knows what – this being the good news bit – we hit a very small air pocket, which woke me up. Opening one eye lazily, I looked up at the hammock, only to spot the bad news. And, seeing this made me sit up with a start, because, without a doubt, I was the only witness to an impending disaster. Why?
Because of what I’d just spotted on the underside of the hammock, which was a long, wet patch – no prizes for guessing what the wet was – and, not only was the patch getting bigger and wetter rather rapidly, but, with my sharp eyesight, I noticed that from time to time, little drops of liquid were dripping down from it onto the sleeping young mother’s shoulder. So, before I tell you what my reaction was at being confronted by this problem, have a really careful think about what YOU would have done if you’d got magic powers and had found yourself in this situation.
For me the magic answer was a quick and simple solution, which, most importantly of all, was based upon something essential. This was that none of us wanted the baby to wake up and start crying again. So, avoiding movement, and therefore avoiding disturbing other passengers - including the baby and its mother too – had to be the key to the solution. (Perhaps, knowing this now might help you to solve the problem, if you haven’t done so already.)
Anyway, you should know that with my magic there’s no time to think. I just trust it and let it happen. So, as usual, my tail clicked and tingled, and a small bolt of fizzy blue light shot across the cabin aisle, and then danced along the underneath of the dangling hammock. This didn’t change its colour, or its wet look at all, but what it did do was make the underside completely water-proof, and all without disturbing anyone. Feeling rather pleased with myself at what I thought was a great outcome, I dozed off again, without a care in the world.
However, somewhile later, the baby did start to cry again gently. Not only did this wake me up, but it encouraged the tall airhostess to get up and come over towards the infant to help. Just as she was about to lift the baby from the hammock, the young mother stood up to try, herself and, still half asleep, lifted her baby from the sling. In doing so, she tilted one end of the support straps in such a way that the piddle puddle that had developed subsequently inside the now waterproof cloth, ran down the interior, and spilt out on onto the shoulder of her dress. No only did the commotion of all of this make the baby scream, but it also made the mother cry out as she got wet. As a consequence, everything suddenly became rather complicated for the poor airhostess, who looked a bit exasperated as she tried to deal not only with both of them, but also with a number grumpy and groggy passengers too. (I felt a bit grumpy as well, I have to admit!)
So, as you can imagine, not only was the rest of our flight not a quiet one, but this incident also illustrates really well how the outcome of magic is not always exactly what one expects. The moral of the tale being, as for Sparkles in Book 3 - https://www.magicgraffi.com/s-projects-side-by-side - be careful what you wish for.
Graffi
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