See that white thing in the midst of all those trees? Its a cat. How did it get there? Well, I hope your sitting down because there is a story involved...It was a typical Monday morning. Mom let me out back to do my "stuff-fa-fa" and she did whatever Mom's do when their kids aren't watching. I was minding my own business when Mom opened the back door and said, "JACK- GET THAT CAT!", I looked up, "hu? What cat? I don't smell a cat!" and then. I. Saw. It.
We caught eyes and off we went. The cat, (I'll call him Moe) didn't know its way around my backyard because he ran right past three escape holes (homemade by the resident rabbits).
"Go get him Jack, GOOD BOY!" mom said from the deck, and boy did I get him alright. Moe ran the length of the yard (which is not small, just shy of 200 feet) and then, just as I was on him, he ran up the tree.
And I don't mean he ran up the tree like a lil' sissy either, I mean, he hauled ass up that tree (opps! pardon my language!) To make sure Moe wouldn't be joining me for more cross country lessons, I barked at him a few times, tried to jump up the tree a few times and then when mom called me, I ran back inside...drank a bunch of water and needed to run upstairs and tell dad what I just did. (He was very proud of me!)
Mom joined me upstairs when I tried to explain to dad (via butt wiggles) how I just chased a cat up the tree but mom did a better job using her words telling dad my heroic tale. It wasn't long after that Mom's curiosity got the best of her and she ran back downstairs to see if the cat was still in the tree.
Yup, just where we left him...second tree trunk from the left, 3/4 of the way up...This is where the story ends for me, because I did my job. I made sure that Moe got the memo to stay outta my yard (and that he'd pass it on to all his other fluffy, feline friends!)
Now its Mom's turn to pick up the story telling...
So after I tell Eric all the details of how Jack chased Moe through the trees, around the burn barrel and up the tree, I realized something: if the cat went up the tree, the cat must come down from the tree.
That's when I realized something else: don't firemen typically assist abandoned felines in trees? I did a quick inventory of my outfit, pj's, slippers, mussed hair and robe. Sexy. This is when I did the unthinkable, I started to root for the cat. "Come on down fluffy...come on!"
After watching in dismay for five minutes, I'd walk away, catch up on real current events (thank you Matt Lauer) and return to the kitchen window like a moth to flame. Moe didn't budge.
My fifth trip back to the window there was activity. Yeah, Moe!
He made his way down the tree, but not head first, no no, Moe is smarter than that. He went butt-first down the tree, stopping at the occasional branch to rest his hammies.
When he did make it to the grass again, I did a little happy dance (not just because I wasn't going to have to put a call into the fire department...)
It seemed as though this was Moe's first time on the merry-go-round because he wasn't all that coordinated. After several failed attempts at jumping the fence, he finally clawed his way up to the tippy top of the fence.
Moe stayed on the top of the fence for quite some time...then finally, after several half-misses (and a few balance issues), he jumped off and into the early morning dew. It seems as though Moe passed the memo along because we haven't had any other fluffy visitors...
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