Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Drama on the North Forty

My husband and I arrived home this evening at about the same time. We are always greeted by Mama, the outdoor cat. Mama behaves much more like a dog than a cat, coming when called and generally "dogging" our steps as we move about outside. Tonight our sweet grey cat with the white tipped tail was nowhere to be seen.

After changing into some comfortable clothes, I went to the garden to pick some vegetables - tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. Yum. My little friend did not follow me as she normally does. When I returned to the house, my husband asked me if the cat had turned up. I could sense some concern in his voice because Mama is so very predictable. So, he took a turn around the North Forty calling her name. Yep, our neighbors probably think us daft, strolling around the yard, calling for Mama, over and over again. I joined my husband in the front yard where there sat our beloved cat, on a branch 20 feet off the ground in one of the oak trees. A huge cat sat below her, I guess, daring her to come down. The brute was summarily chased away.

Mama walked back and forth between two branches, meowing non-stop. I suggested that we call the Fire Department to assist us in getting her out of the tree. Isn't that the classic thing to do when your cat is stuck in a tree? My husband just gave me one of those looks. We decided, instead, to give her some time, hoping she would back down out of the tree, as we have seen her do before. We entreated her to come down in our most soothing voices. We walked away from her, hoping she would want to follow us. No deal. This time, she was just too high in the tree to get herself down. I think she was afraid. I know I would have been.

When it became clear she had no intention of removing herself from her perch, my husband went to the neighbor's house to borrow his aged red wooden extension ladder. We placed it up against the tree, and my husband tentatively began to make his way up the rickety ladder toward Mama. My job was to try to hold the ladder steady (and break his fall, I suppose, should the ladder give way). I did volunteer to climb the ladder, though not with abundant enthusiasm.

When he approached her, she wasn't too keen about letting go of the branch. He finally managed to pry her claws free, and steadied her against his side. He slowly backed down the ladder and when he was still about 10 feet from the ground, Mama bounded out of his arms. She must have sensed that she could survive a leap from 10 feet. She landed with a thud on all four feet and fled the scene.

Once she had composed herself, she circled in for a long pet, some food and water, and a nap. She spent most of the evening recovering from her angst filled day. She is sleeping now. The rickety red ladder is back in the neighbor's garage, awaiting its next adventure. The fire department was not called to the rescue. And, my husband saved the day. He's such a sucker for Mama.

All is well.

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