Build the pet kit tonight from a list somebody else already worked out: food and water for several days in sealed containers, the medicines, the carrier, and a photo of you and your animal together. It takes one evening, and ready.gov publishes the whole thing.
The photo is the item worth explaining first, because it's the one nobody thinks of.
Why the photo
Per ready.gov's pet guidance, a picture of you and your pet together "will help you document ownership and allow others to assist you in identifying your pet." Separation during an evacuation is common and chaotic. A photo of the dog is a photo of a dog; a photo of you with the dog is evidence. Keep one printed in the kit and one on your phone.
The kit, per ready.gov
- Food — several days' supply, in an airtight, waterproof container.
- Water — a bowl, and several days' supply.
- Medicine — an extra supply of anything they take regularly, in a waterproof container.
- First aid — ready.gov sends you to your veterinarian for what belongs in it, which is the right answer; a dog kit and a cat kit aren't the same kit.
- Collar with ID tag, harness or leash — plus a backup collar, leash and tag.
- Registration copies — in a waterproof container, and saved electronically too.
- A carrier or crate per pet, sturdy enough to travel in.
- Sanitation — litter and a box where it applies, newspapers, paper towels, plastic trash bags, and household chlorine bleach.
- Grooming items — shampoo and the rest, for when the animal needs cleaning up.
- Familiar things — a favorite toy, treats, their own bedding. Ready.gov's stated reason is stress, and that's not sentimentality: a frightened animal in a strange place is harder to manage.
How much water, honestly
We wanted to give you a daily ounces-per-pound table. We could not source one from a primary veterinary reference this week — the AVMA's pages wouldn't yield usable text, and no other agency we checked publishes the figure. So we are not going to invent one.
Use the measure sitting in your kitchen instead: fill the bowl the way you normally do, note how often you refill it, and multiply. You already know your animal's intake better than a table would. Then round up, because a stressed animal in a hot car drinks more than a comfortable one at home.
The two decisions to make before anything happens
Where they can go. Ready.gov is blunt that "many public shelters and hotels do not allow pets inside." That's a phone call to make on a calm evening, not a discovery to make at eleven at night with a car packed. Find the pet-friendly hotel two towns over, or the relative that will take the cat.
Who else can get them out. Ready.gov calls it a buddy system: an arrangement with neighbors, friends or relatives to care for or evacuate your pets if you can't. Most evacuations happen on a weekday. Somebody nearby needs a key and a standing yes.
And get the microchip registration current. A chip with an old phone number on it is a chip that does nothing.
Where this falls short
A carrier your cat has never been inside isn't transport, it's a wrestling match at the worst possible moment. Ready.gov's advice is to leave the carrier out in places the animal already goes, and to leave it open — days ahead, not minutes. Treats inside. It's the cheapest thing on this list and the one most likely to be skipped.
This also isn't veterinary guidance. Special diets, chronic conditions, anxiety medication, and anything involving a senior animal are conversations with your vet, and the right time for that conversation is a routine appointment rather than an emergency.
Finally, none of this covers livestock or large animals. Those need a trailer, a route, and a plan made months ahead — a different problem wearing similar words.
Where to go next
The Household Readiness Plan asks about pets and folds them into the rest of your plan. If your kit needs paperwork sorted, the plastic binder is the five-dollar version of a document system, and what to do in an evacuation is the page to read before you need it.