This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2015, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

I lugged around a bag of cats last week. No, there wasn't a rock in the bag, and no, I wasn't going down to the river. What kind of person do you think I am?

Oh. Well, OK, that's fair. You're probably even right. But you'll be happy to learn that nobody got hurt except for me, when one of the kittens clawed his way up the back of my head for a better view of where we were going.

We were taking the cats around to various businesses who had, for 30 bucks, ordered 15 minutes worth of cat snuggle time for their employees.

This was not a Halloween joke. Nuzzles & Co., a Park City-based nonprofit pet-adoption organization, joined forces with Uber as a way of getting the word out about adoptable cats.

There were several cat patrol vehicles, including ours, dubbed "Jude Paw," after the actor. The "Jude Paw" team consisted of Brian the driver, Elysa the navigator, Rick the photographer, Sharon the Nuzzles & Co. coordinator, and me the dubious.

The multifold purpose was to not only test the credulity of a cynical newspaper columnist, but also raise awareness regarding Nuzzles & Co.'s rescue of animals, encourage animal adoption, and provide a bit of snuggle therapy to hardworking employees.

It worked. Our first stop was a marketing firm in Cottonwood Heights. The entire office of about 50 people — minus those with cat allergies, who apparently hid in the bathrooms — turned out to take turns holding a ball of wide-eyed cuteness.

While this would be a more interesting column if a kitten had dashed across the computer keyboard of an investment banker and accidentally plunged the world into financial chaos before biting him on the face, that didn't happen.

Instead, a bunch of people fell in love. First to fall were the people doing the transporting. On the way to Cottonwood Heights, kittens Baxter, Barclay, and Barley escaped (or were let out of) the bag in the back of the vehicle.

I've been roommates with a few cats over my lifetime, so what happened next didn't surprise me a bit.

One by one, the kittens hooked into the back of my neck, climbed over my skull, down my face, and onto my chest. Sounds painful, but it actually hurt less than trying to multiply numbers in my head.

I bonded with Barley. It's a stupid name for a cat, so I immediately renamed him "Vlad the Impaler." Not only is this more accurate for a creature designed by nature to be a ruthless murderer, but also considerably more interesting.

Vlad and I had a lot in common, including the above average amount of indifference to the feelings of others.

Me/Him: "Where the [deleted] are you going?"

Him/Me: "None of your %&@*! business."

Like I said, we got along famously. So did everyone else we encountered that morning. In addition to the marketing firm, we visited a software company and a room of stressed-out students at the University of Utah.

People laughed, cooed, and worshipped the cats. A couple of nice ladies even got a little teary when it was time to leave. Yeah, it's all fun and cute until somebody goes to the bathroom in someone else's filing cabinet.

The cat patrol was a hit. You can check out Nuzzles & Co. at nuzzlesandco.org. If Vlad is still there, tell him I said "hi," and I want my wallet back.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.