Mr. Whiskers

I have never been a pet-person. My family has never owned a pet and the most significant experiences I've ever had with animals consists of reading the book "Where the Red Fern Grows" (get out the tissues) or watching the movie "Marley and Me". My experience flying back to BYU from Chicago not only solidified my position but illustrated why I am not a pet-person.
After having a wonderful Christmas break with my family back home in Indiana it was finally time to re-pack my things and fly back out to snowy Provo to start winter term at the Y. I wouldn't consider myself an overly friendly or outgoing person but normally on flights I seek to chat with the passengers seated next to me. On the flight from Chicago to Salt Lake City, I was seated in the middle of two passengers, an adult woman to my left and a college-age student to my right. I had no idea what I was in for. I saw that the woman was carrying an interesting-looking carry-on and when she placed it underneath her seat I thought I heard a noise akin to a "meow" and a smell like bad BO. I was confused, trying to figure out what-in-the-world was in that carry-on. It all became painfully clear when I heard the woman look in the direction of the carry-on and say, "Hello Mr. Whiskers. Don't worry Mr. Whiskers. Mommy is here. Don't poop yourself Mr. Whiskers. Don't you poop yourself." She then looked at me and explained that sometimes when Mr. Whiskers gets scared he poops himself. I could only manage a nervous smile.
Whenever I fly I always plan on reading a book but typically I end up falling asleep. This flight was no different but this time as I groggily woke up I smelled a horrible stench. I was confused and bewildered as to what could possibly create such a terrible smell! I should've known... Mr. Whiskers had pooped himself. I could feel irritation building up inside of me as I was trying to hold my breath but to no avail. The stank was spreading throughout the entire cabin and I thought it was going to suffocate me! I look increduously at the woman wonderying why she was allowing Mr. Whiskers to stink up the entire cabin? Well, she too had fallen asleep. As I was looking at her trying to think of a way to wake her up, she thankfully woke up on her own and after identifying that the smell was coming from her Mr. Whiskers, she leaned over and grabbed him from beneath her seat and held the cat in her lap. The smell slapped-me-in-the-face and I had to turn the other way to avoid vomiting or screaming. I could feel myself becoming so frustrated with the situation, so I kept trying to tell myself that the cat probably brings this woman a lot of joy and that the inconvenience of sitting next to Mr. Whiskers would be but a small moment. It didn't work. The smell permeated my good thoughts. In an act of mercy, the woman took Mr. Whiskers to the bathroom to clean him up but even as they returned the smell was still alarming. Never before have I been so grateful for fresh air and a shower. I'm just not a pet-person. Need I explain more?