Flying with two cats is easier than I anticipated. The only real snafu was at the security checkpoint when they informed me the cats would have to come out of their carrier to get through the metal detector. After walking through they wanted me to show them my palms for a specific wand scan that I’ve never seen before. The woman TSA agent took one look in my cats’ eyes and stated “I’m not going near those things.”

She must have mistook their abject terror for a threatening posture. Handing the wand to an old man he then tells me to show him my hands.
“Can I put them back in the bag?”
“Show me your hands first.”
“I can’t do that while holding the cats.”
“Uh, I guess put them down.”
A resounding negation from the three other TSA agents.
We both just looked at each other and I ask again, “Can’t I just put them in the bag?”

The man’s consternation clearly expressed that I was not supposed to access the cat bag until the scan was done. I just looked at him while silently pleading with a little leeway. He finally allowed me to slip them back in the carrier before running that special wand all over my palms. I asked him what that was for and he just said it was because I was holding something when I walked through.

They never scanned the cats themselves. I expected them to at least run a wand over them, I guess. Honestly, a professional terrorist would never hinge the success of an elaborate scheme on a cat. That would be like asking an alcoholic to watch over your whiskey-tasting kit for the weekend. Though letting cats loose in an airport does have a slightly terror-iffic slant to it.