The Cat, the Bulb, and the Boldness of Being Weird
The real reason for the decal: I’m not naturally a “walk up and chat” type. But stick a clinging cat on your bumper and suddenly everyone—from retirees in Winnebagos to teenagers in gas stations—wants to talk.
Wait. She Put Decals on the Back!
And the sides! Yes, I’m that person. My little 16-ish-foot rig rolled off the lot already wearing its own tragic fashion statement—those mysterious factory swirls splashed across every side like a graphic designer’s midlife crisis. Why does every RV manufacturer think “swirl equals adventure”? No one knows. All I knew was that my first act as Trailer Boss was to peel them off. (That story involves a hair dryer, a spatula, and several new curse words. Another time.)
Now, some people collect gnomes. Others believe a three-foot metal rooster really ties the porch together. My version of eccentricity? I slapped a decal of a cat clinging to the back of my trailer. And not just any cat—a survivor cat, hanging on for dear life next to a beaming light bulb. Was it quirky? Absolutely. Ridiculous? Only on odd-numbered days.
Honestly, I had doubts. There were moments when I stared at that decal kit and wondered if I was one peel away from being featured on “People of Walmart: RV Edition.” But I thought—if the world can handle flamingo mailboxes and inflatable Santas in July, surely I can have a cat and a light bulb as my spirit animals.
Here’s the symbolism: the light bulb stands for simple truth. Uncomplicated, bold, quietly brilliant. The cat? She’s the embodiment of survival—clingy in all the best ways, refusing to let go no matter how bumpy the road. Like me (minus the fur, hopefully).
But here’s the real reason for the decal: I’m not naturally a “walk up and chat” type. But stick a clinging cat on your bumper and suddenly everyone—from retirees in Winnebagos to teenagers in gas stations—wants to talk. People smiled, laughed, snapped photos, or occasionally gave me a look that said, “Should I be worried?” Honestly, it was perfect.
In the end, I realized that the best way to break the ice on the road isn’t with a dog or a fishing pole—it’s with a cat decal and a sense of humor. If you’re going to be weird, be weird out loud. It’s much more fun.
