Despite him stepping his 15-pound body onto my chest and pushing the air out of me, it was a lovely way to wake up. He nudged his head against mine and purred loudly. For several minutes I scratched his face, rubbed his whiskers, and enjoyed what�s probably the most euphoric part of a pet relationship.

I started to drift back to sleep (in my defense, it *was* 5:30 in the morning) when he reached his paws up and gave my hand an honest-to-goodness hug before he walked away.

This morning reminded me of the time that I feel asleep petting him and awoke to what would have been perfect for a picture on one of those Hallmark cards they sell with the blank insides. I was spooning ham and had my arm wrapped over him with my elbow resting up against his belly. His two kitty paws were stretched around that arm, and his head rested in the palm of my hand.

Man, I love this cat.

Children can wait. I have a Hambone.

We�ve made progress in the back-to-the-toilet training. Hambone made it through all of the steps, successfully doing his business in diminishing kitty litter and handling the water in the pan. Yesterday I decided to try out the plain ol� toilet and went to work.

I came home to find that he indeed peed in the toilet with no training aids whatsoever. He got pets and treats and all sorts of lovin� from me.

Remember when I said, �He�ll pee in the toilet all day long, but pooping isn�t gonna happen?�

I noticed that he left me some �treats� in the bathtub.

I guess better the tub than the livingroom floor. I�ll eventually amend this behavior, but it�s at least in the right direction.

In anticipation of my upcoming trip to Houston and Austin at the end of the month, I called the good folks at AirTrans airlines to inquire about taking Ham with me. I�ll be gone for a whole ten days, and I couldn�t imagine not taking my baby with me.

My own issues aside, when I went to my Paw Paw�s funeral and left Ham in the care of Yasemin and Helga, Helga met me with, �That cat needs you. Don�t ever leave him alone again.�

Apparently Ham meow-cried, wandered the house like he lost something, and didn�t ever seem to settle down.

To ease us both, I called to reserve a space for him on the upcoming flight. My friendly AirTrans employee informed me that I had two options: checking him as baggage or taking him as carry-on.

I would have no problem with either, but...

To make him checked baggage would require Houston�s temperature to be somewhere below 95 degrees. And even though I�m coming in at 11 o�clock at night, there�s no guarantee that has any bearing on the heat. If I schlep the cat to the airport and then find out that it�s over 95 there -- or better yet, make it to my connection in Atlanta and find this out -- he'll be stuck there. And if he�s stuck, I�m stuck.

To carry him on, I only have to buy a cat carrier with specific dimensions and several stipulations. Sure, sure. I bet PetSmart will know exactly what I need. No big deal. And as I�m getting ready to hand over my credit card number to let the very friendly Shelly reserve a space for my Hammus, she asks,

�How much does your cat weigh?�

�Oh, he�s a hefty 15 pounds. A big ol� Tom cat.�

�Oh no... He AND his carrier have to weigh less than 15 pounds, and I know that they weigh him before you can get onto the plane... I�m sorry.�

DAMN YOU AIRTRANS AIRLINES! Didn�t you hear Helga?! That cat NEEDS me!!!! He doesn�t sleep. He doesn�t eat. He doesn�t ever settle down when I�m gone.

After stewing a while I started thinking of other reasons air travel with Ham would be awful.

First off, he has horrible motion sickness. There was this time that I took him for a five minute car ride that resulted in him doing the three P�s: peeing, pooping, and puking. Thankfully my car was VERY messy at the time and he peed and pooped on old newspapers. The puke was easy enough to clean up because I had leather seats.

Second, as he demonstrated on the trip to Chicago when I got him some anti-nausea medication, when I knock him out, he continues to crap.

So you take a pick: un-drugged Ham making the plane smell like puke, drugged Ham making the plane small like poop, or him staying with Helga and Yasemine the ten days.

Shit, with my luck he�ll lose a few pounds and then would be eligible for flight after a few days with them... I�m considering starving him to get him to the 14-pound mark.

Yeah, I�m just kidding... He wouldn�t know what to do with my parents� cats and he�s not likely to find a toilet in a much larger and very unfamiliar house.

Looks like I�ll have to do without my Hambone for the week.�