I may never recover from yesterday. I knew it was going to be bad, what with being forced into the Evil Cat Carrier and trapped in the car to drive down to Devon Grandma's, but it was even worse than I expected.
We left home at 10 AM, which should usually mean that we get down to Devon Grandma's at about 3 PM. It was foggy, but there wasn't as much traffic as we were fearing, so we whizzed round the M25 and down the M3 in pretty quick time. I was quite loud for the first part of the journey, but then I got bored and concentrated on looking out of the window at the foggy trees going past.
Things went horribly wrong at about 12.15, when we had left the motorway and were heading down the A303 through Hampshire, Dorset and Somerset. Suddenly we were stuck at the end of a long, foggy queue. No one was going anywhere. My humans were listening to the traffic news on the radio. Something about a tanker lorry having jack-knifed and everyone getting diverted. We sat still in the traffic jam. I got bored and fell asleep. I woke up an hour later. We were still sitting in the same place. I went back to sleep. I woke up an hour later. We were crawling along a very foggy lane being diverted, somewhere in Dorset. I went back to sleep. I woke up an hour later. We were in a totally foggy lane and from what my humans were saying, we were slightly lost. Then it got even more foggy. Then it got dark...
Anyway, we did get back on the main road eventually and we crawled through the fog and the dark and we got to Devon Grandma's...at 6PM. We were all furry tired, furry hungry, furry cramped and furry in need of a litter box. My humans said that I'd been a very good boy, but I was traumatised, so after a quick snack I went behind the sofa and stayed there all night. Then I came out, found Scratchy Mouse, had some food and went and sat on my mum to loudly tell her how traumatised I was. I am NOT happy!
Christmas spirit? Bah, humbug!