How many Catzillas are too many?

I was quite sure as we loaded the moving truck, that the two remaining ones were quite enough. Florida to New York we would go with our two tabbies.

Junior was the son of my bridal-gown-eating, Catzilla the first, and was the sweetest cat of them all. However, baby Zilla was certifiable.

I saw the handwriting on the wall, or should I say, scratches on the wall. Oh, they weren't from Zilla, they were mine.

How could a father and son be so different?

Junior, the hero cat, had defeated the neighborhood bully, Megalon the dog. He had attained rock star status and was loved by young and old alike. That being the case, how could I leave his offspring behind? I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

So, off to New York we rolled in a U-Haul truck that had engine problems.

Dear reader, when it rains cats and cats, it pours.

Zilla liked absolutely no one. Hindsight is 20/20, and why Jackson and I were traveling up the Eastern Seaboard in a small rental truck with two cats in the cab, was a sign of pure insanity. Did I mention we had fifty dollars to our name?

I didn't normally travel well, and apparently, neither did Zilla. After hours of frustration, Zilla was finally lulled to sleep by the whine of the straining engine and had accidentally landed next to Junior. I couldn't find my Polaroid to capture the epic event.

Our rental truck made it just past the Georgia Welcome Center to a pecan farm. Noxious, black smoke was billowing from the hood as we sputtered to a stop. I knew as soon as Jackson cut the engine, it was the last hurrah.

"Sugar Bee, I see a filling station over there that doesn't look too busy. You and the cats stay put. I'll be right back," he assured.

A scent other than burning oil filled my nostrils. It was time to evacuate. A kindly old gentleman came across the street bearing hot dogs. The really good, all beef kind.

"You are an angel of mercy," I said, fanning the cat smell with my hands.

"Ah, it's from my cart over yonder. I serve 'em at Hank's Fill-R-Up on most days when my rheumatism isn't bothering me." His toothy grin put me at ease.

"Thank you! I'll have to split them with my two cats." As soon as I said that, they reappeared like magic.

"My name is Auburn. Most folks call me Abe. I have a bird dog, but I truly love cats, too. May I hold the little one?"

I handed Zilla over after slapping myself for hesitating.

What I saw, was nothing short of a miracle. If a cat could smile, Zilla did just that.

"I'll be right back with some more dogs for ya, and a sweet iced tea. I have some for your husband, too, but I think he'll be awhile. He's speaking with Hank," Abe reported.

I searched for a place to sit down, balancing my plate in one hand and Junior in the other. My weight loss plan for Junior never seemed more necessary as I heaved him to the ground.

"Okay, my hero cat. Your gravy-laden cat food is going to be trimmed, along with you waistline!" He smiled and purred, totally unaffected. I spread out my poncho as we lounged together under a pecan tree.

I could see Zilla curling around Abe's feet as he served his patrons. "Well, would you look at that," I said in astonishment.

After a few minutes, Jackson and Hank walked towards the truck and popped the hood. "Afternoon, Miss," he said with a nod. He poked and prodded with Jackson looking on. His coveralls and hands were heavily oiled after the assessment.

I drew near with Junior to hear Hank's report.

"Your oil pump's shot. I'll need to order a new one. I'm sorry, but it will be tomorrow before I will have this repaired."

I asked the most logical question. "Is there a way to rent a new truck and load it with our belongings?"

"No, ma'am. The closest truck rental is in Savannah, two hours away."

In the meantime, Abe wandered over with Zilla and joined in. "Don't suppose you folks would like to stay with me and the missus? We have a real pretty guest room," he offered without batting an eye.

Our situation was looking more providential by the minute.

"That is so kind," replied Jackson. "We are newly married and that would be a tremendous help."

Abe's countenance flashed with delight, and I believe Zilla's did also.

We slept soundly in the guest room; and Hank installed the oil pump the next day as promised.

Abe met my eyes as we were about to leave.

"Here," is all I could muster as I handed over Zilla. Tears spilled between us as he brushed my cheek with a kiss. "I will take good care of him," he said.

The U-Haul pointed north, and away we drove with Junior snuggled in my lap.