I know all about that, having once in an emergency had to manage without a cat box to carry a loudly protesting hormonally enhanced tom to my car and drive it to the vet. He too was declaiming at the top of his lungs a terrible story of the outrage that had been done to him. I was only sitting him, and he didn't trust me a scrap, but when we got back and he realised he had got me wrong (which he undoubtedly did, I suppose as the painkillers kicked in), he was all over me. I never did get the stink out of the car.
I hope you dont think I intended my screed of a few minutes ago as a scare story. It all worked out quite well really, even in that respect, as out of respect for his etiquette and elocution teacher, the interloper didnt spray, although he wasn't neutered and populated the whole neighbourhood over a few years. Ergo he didnt come home much, and we built him quite a classy little kennel so that when he did, his territory was beyond dispute. He liked his kennel.
I would hate to add to the generally alarmist posts on here and encourage you to demur at this possible dream of love without playing it by ear first.