On day two of driving, we are haunted by the smell of untraceable cat piss.

On the plus side, it offers constant reassurance that neither of us has lost the sense of smell. This seems like a weird thing to be so concerned about, but there you have it. Another gift we gave ourselves in 2020.

At any rate, mom and I have checked every pillow, every seat cushion, all the tucked away spaces, both cats and the dog, but haven’t found the source. The cats were frankly insulted that we would think they’d stoop to such behavior and the dog was too busy feeling queasy to care. We’ve now cleaned every inch of the floor with (definitely non-aerosolized) disinfectant cleaner, but the ghost of previously traveling cats (or dogs, children or adults) still taunts us.

On a related note, I’ve done the math and decided to hell with fuel economy, I can’t drive 55. So we’re living on the edge and driving the speed limit. A lovely feature of this particular route is that the speed limit has been 75 mph just about everywhere except city centers and the twelve different places, so far, where we’ve been slowed and diverted for highway construction projects.

So why is the speed limit related to the smell, you ask? Well, after you’ve been driving this particular RV for a while, the floor of the cab area heats up. A lot. And this radiant heat that will cook your feet if you take your shoes off also serves to release and intensify the bouquet of ammonia. We can’t really roll down the windows because it’s so hot outside, but at least turning the air conditioner on full blast to keep the animals comfortable wafts the scent mostly behind us.

Somewhere along our drive tomorrow we’re stopping to buy some Nature’s Miracle and will douse the entire floor with it. I’m pretty sure that won’t set off the carbon monoxide detector, but if it does, it will be worth it.