The Virtues of a Good Husband II -That Cat Has a Screw Loose

One of my cats is about as high maintenance as Zoe. To tell the truth, he may be a little more. He was terribly malnourished when he was young and was the runt of the litter. So his brain did not develop properly and while he is instinctively intact his problem solving abilities are a little sub par for the feline community's comfort.

He's big and fluffy and gray with a jauntily curling tail. I'm pretty convinced that the squirrels in our yard think he's the Squirrel King, because he resembles them, but bigger and not as agile.

Sooooooo.....After the Oven incident on Friday, all we need is another quasi emergency to really break the mood of relaxed splendor hanging out on Saturday had created.

We had just picked up Zoe from mom and dads and returned home. We were making a decision about dinner when I noticed our neighbors dog Peanuts was out. He's a sweet dog really, but he loves to chase my cats. Not two weeks earlier we were trying to get Gemini down from a tree because Peanuts was trying to have his way with her.

There is a window on our porch we leave partially open for the cats in just such an emergency. Jupiter however, being a few whiskers short of a tuna did NOT make a go for the window. Oh, he went past it alright, but no IN IT.

Instead he ran UP the tree and stayed there. Cats climb trees, I know. And rarely do they ever need the fire department to help them down. This time however, we had to complicating factors.

(1) The mockingbirds are nesting. For anyone who has ever had a mockingbird nest in a tree or NEAR a tree in your yard you know the dangers. They will dive bomb ANYTHING that comes close to their nest. We nearly lost Gracie (big fat cat) in a freak nesting incident that resulted in a Mockingbird sitting on her back pecking at her as she waddled to safety.

(2) There was a thunderstorm coming.

We whistled, "kitty kitty'ed" and pleaded for him to come down. His nimble little self was going to have nothing of it.

Lacking a proper ladder, David and I decided the best course of action was to get really trailer trash and pull the car into the front yard under the tree. Not the GOOD car of course, but my 1989 Ford Tempo.

In the rain, the lightning an wind, my superhero husband, much like those fireman in suburban legends, managed to coax that dipshit cat out of the tree.

I won't attempt to give you an insightful closing. I think the picture below speaks for itself.