Big or small - dogs and cats make such good cruising companions

Over the years I've made an unscientific, highly subjective study of pets and boats and have come to one conclusion: the smaller the sailboat, the larger the dog; the bigger the powerboat, the smaller the dog. If there's a dog aboard a 24-foot sailboat, it's going to be a big, black Lab or German Shepherd. Where you think a pintsize dog would be more comfortable and take up less space, you'll find a jumbo retriever filling up the cockpit.

Conversely, a fancy yacht with beamy cabins and walk-around decks is usually the floating home of a little Chihuahua or Pekingese. These handheld versions need only a minimum amount of space, so they usually sit on the lap of their skipper or in a corner of a settee, although they have staterooms in which to wander.

I feel sorry for a large dog on a small boat because it's always underfoot and in the way. And if it's a senior citizen it often has difficulty getting up and down a steep ladder, not to mention in and out of a dinghy for shore duty. A big dog, no matter what the age, needs room to roam.

I've been a dog person since I was a kid growing up with Trixie, a trusty, old Heinz Variety. My husband and I were introduced to kittens when living aboard and have been cat people ever since.

I think a cat is the perfect cruising pet because of its small size and agility. A cat doesn't take up much space, require daily visits ashore, and is sure-footed in even the worst conditions, with claws that grasp slippery decks. The seagoing feline might not like those conditions, but it sure can maneuver in them.

We've cruised with many cats, and they all take to boating much like we humans - some like it better than others. Puss and Boots came aboard as tiny kittens when we were living aboard a sailboat, and adjusted quite quickly to the sailing life. I don't think they knew any better. When we were underway they slept tucked inside a sail bag or huddled beneath a dinghy stowed in chocks on deck. In rough conditions when they had to use the litter box on the transom they'd nonchalantly pad along the high side of the deck, lifting their outside paw to avoid a spray of water. With a look of indignity and relief, they finished their business and retreated to their protected hideaways.

On our trawler we cruised with Stormy, who took the laid back lifestyle in stride, and then with Pete and Repete, who saved all their energy until the engines stopped. With the sound of the anchor chain going down and the engines in neutral, they sprang to life walking the teak rail around the flybridge, poking their nose into cabinets, and sniffing in the nooks and crannies of the engine room - one of their favorite haunts.

When you're underway, a cat is lively company because so little is needed to entertain it. A cockpit filled with a tangle of sheets and lines makes for hours of play time. And if it's a smelly old line, so much the better.

Our cat problems usually occur when we're at a marina. One afternoon at a small dock near Charleston, South Carolina, we couldn't find Puss and Boots. When our usual ploy of opening the drawer containing the can opener for their food didn't work, we were worried. We searched up and down the dock and all around the yard, but had no luck finding them. Passing a large cruiser, I happened to look in its window and there inside sat Puss and Boots.

When he opened the boat for us to retrieve the stowaways, the marina operator said a cleaning crew had been there earlier. We assume the cats went snooping and got themselves locked aboard when the workers left.

Boots got stuck under a pier once in Florida when he treaded upon the territory of another cat. The marina operator came calling to ask if we were missing a black cat, and to our surprise, we were. Boots had apparently skinnied underneath the dock and hid while a rising tide was coming in. He had wedged himself in the underpinnings of the dock, so Gene nearly had to go for a swim to retrieve him.

And in Nassau we were afraid we had lost Puss for good when she disappeared for almost a week. We put the word on the street that there was a $10 reward for a black cat and were inundated with native kids bringing lookalikes. Early one morning a kid brought us Puss, and we learned she had been up in a tree not far from the marina. We were thrilled at her return.

Pets on a boat can be problematic, I admit, but the pleasure of their company far outweighs any dilemmas they create. And our cats have introduced us to several boaters we otherwise would never have met. Once we were at a North Carolina marina when a 72-foot Burger pulled in. The gangplank went down and the captain came to our boat inviting us for cocktails with the owners. We were amazed to learn they wanted to meet us because they knew our cats, who visited them frequently when our boats were at Pier 66 in Fort Lauderdale. Apparently Puss and Boots went aboard their boat every morning where they feasted on tuna prepared by their hosts.

Another time when we were cruising north on the ICW we were passed by Inverness, a 65-foot motor sailer complete with a Honda Civic onboard). They heard us on the VHF asking about water depth at the Morehead City Marina. They called us to say the water was deep and invited us to join them for dinner there. Of course we accepted, and when we pulled into the marina they caught our lines and introduced themselves. They remembered our cats from Nassau!