Yesterday we found a cat stuck in a tree. It was not however in the place you would expect it to be. It was stuck in the middle of the hollow trunk with only a tiny window of a crack opening onto the driveway and apparently a larger hole up top through which it could not return. The first thing I did was laugh.
By the time Stephen came home the cat was a little more upset by its predicament (ie, it hissed rather than meowed pitifully). So I dumped a some food down the crack and managed to get a small yogurt container in as well, into which we siphoned some water (using the fish vacuum-y thingy). This seemed to calm the cat down and it curled up at the back corner of its little prison. Stephen meanwhile got the saw and began to enlarge the hole enough for the cat to get out.
This was of course, all happening in the dark. So there I was in my socks holding a weak flashlight on the hole, Stephen was beside me sawing away at the tree (which is very spongy) with a flickering headlamp on his head and the cat was curled up looking so utterly comfortable in his little nook.
At one point our landlord came by, bringing the rubbish bins up from the curb. I feared he might um, worry about what we were up to. But he was just as worried for the cat and offered to bring the axe tomorrow if we couldn't extract the cat ourselves that night.
Finally, we had what we thought would be a big enough hole (and I had to grab some dinner still before I headed out to quilting). So we packed up and headed in, hoping the cat would sort the rest out itself. Which it seems to have handled just fine, that or a space ship came in the middle of the night and used their tractor beam to pull the cat back up through the hole in the top and off into outer space.
I wonder. . .
(sorry no pictures, my camera is at the doctors' office and I'm not too sure how photogenic angry cats are anyways)
By the time Stephen came home the cat was a little more upset by its predicament (ie, it hissed rather than meowed pitifully). So I dumped a some food down the crack and managed to get a small yogurt container in as well, into which we siphoned some water (using the fish vacuum-y thingy). This seemed to calm the cat down and it curled up at the back corner of its little prison. Stephen meanwhile got the saw and began to enlarge the hole enough for the cat to get out.
This was of course, all happening in the dark. So there I was in my socks holding a weak flashlight on the hole, Stephen was beside me sawing away at the tree (which is very spongy) with a flickering headlamp on his head and the cat was curled up looking so utterly comfortable in his little nook.
At one point our landlord came by, bringing the rubbish bins up from the curb. I feared he might um, worry about what we were up to. But he was just as worried for the cat and offered to bring the axe tomorrow if we couldn't extract the cat ourselves that night.
Finally, we had what we thought would be a big enough hole (and I had to grab some dinner still before I headed out to quilting). So we packed up and headed in, hoping the cat would sort the rest out itself. Which it seems to have handled just fine, that or a space ship came in the middle of the night and used their tractor beam to pull the cat back up through the hole in the top and off into outer space.
I wonder. . .
(sorry no pictures, my camera is at the doctors' office and I'm not too sure how photogenic angry cats are anyways)
LOL! Nice.
ReplyDelete