The Cat's Meow Hmmm!

 

I sent this photo to Debbie the other day while taking Kenny for his walk, noting that Pepper, the cat, was certainly an independent soul. 

She's also extremely self assured, having no problem striking up friendships with dogs and maybe even waving a paw filled with claws at humans who dare to reach her way to give her a pat or two. 

Pepper pretty much runs her life exactly the way she wants, 'cept for one situation:  climbing a tree and not knowing how to get down. 

I experienced such a situation yesterday while taking out some time from the kitchen, baking quiches and preparing dinner for the rest of the Love gang who'd gone fishing on the Coeur d'Alene River.

That diversion was meant to be Kenny time, but it turned to be Pepper time.  After parking, I opened the car door and thought I heard a faint and desperate "meow." 

So, I stood and listened, soon hearing a series of "meows" sounding more desperate by the second. Figuring it was Pepper, I walked toward the sound.  I could not see her but could hear the "meow" more distinctly with every step. 

Suddenly, the memory of Pepper's rescue last Saturday from 20 feet up in a tree popped into my head.  I looked up, and Pepper, on a limb about 15 feet up in a cedar tree, looked back at me and continue to "meow." 

Twas an OMG moment, knowing that nobody else at the Colburn farm was home and that last week's tree rescue of Pepper had taken a team of humans and two hours. 

At that moment, two living beings were experiencing flashes of desperation:  Pepper wanted down from the tree, and if I were to be her Good Samaritan, it was going to take some serious planning and luck. 

First things first.  

I figured Pepper had been in the tree for a while, and my mission for coming to the Colburn farm had been to take Kenny for his potty break. Knowing that would give me time to think, I left Pepper, went into the house and put on Kenny's collar for his walk outside. 

No magic scenarios for rescuing Pepper were flowing through my mind, except to get a ladder and figure out what to do from there. 

But where was the ladder?

I tried calling the Coeur d'Alene River fishing bunch but, of course, their phones were out of cell service.  So, I called my sister Laurie who was at a horse show in Moses Lake.  

"Where's there a ladder?"  I asked, telling her Pepper was once again stuck in a tree.

"The ladder's in the shed with the 4-wheeler, but go into the house and there's a laser on a counter," she instructed, adding that Debbie had used the laser last week to lure Pepper. 

After putting Kenny back into his crate, I found the ladder, and I found the laser.  Finding a level spot for the ladder was a bit of a challenge, but I managed. Only problem was that this spot was nowhere near where Pepper was situated. 

I tried luring her with the laser, but Pepper was too distraught to want to play with bouncing light. For an hour or so, I called "Here, Kitty Kitty,"  felt some fleeting triumphs when Pepper would come my way only to turn around and go the opposite direction. 

I also held limbs and pulled them as far down as possible encouraging her to come to said limb.  

Nothing worked.  Finally, I decided Pepper was safe as long as she could cling to a stable limb.  I texted the parties at the CDA River and Moses Lake and told 'em I was going home and coming back later. 

At home, I googled "luring a cat out of a tree."  I found lots of suggestions, including using the laser or putting food at the base of the tree.  Well, heck, that place has half a dozen cats.  No guarantee it would be there long enough to attract Pepper downward. 

I also read that in general cats will eventually come down and that if they do fall, it takes a significant amount of free fall for them to hurt themselves---but Pepper didn't know that!

I also talked to my friend Helen, who told me of an incident when their cat had gotten stuck at the top of a power pole.  They called the fire department, which refused to come.  They put food at the bottom of the pole, and the next day that cat had come to the ground. 

So, this information lessened my stress, but not my desire to get that cat out of the tree on my watch and without having summon someone from the neighborhood to help. 

I returned to Colburn about three hours later, to find Pepper on the limb nearest the ladder.  I climbed the ladder and could actually get my hand on her to pull her toward me.  Two problems:  I'm an old lady several steps up on a ladder, and Pepper's claws were pretty dug into that limb. 

One attempt yielded a claw puncture from one of her back feet. Plus, she rolled over the limb and briefly hung upside down.  

No, this isn't gonna work, I quickly concluded, knowing that if she resisted one bit or got me with more claws, I was likely to react and possibly crash down with the ladder. 

So, I went in the house, found one of Debbie's heavy sweatshirts and some gloves.  I also grabbed my raincoat from the car, knowing the sleeves were longer than those on the sweatshirt. Such a sight on a warm September afternoon. 

But then again, no need for embarrassment cuz nobody else besides Joe, the dog would see me. 

I climbed the ladder once again, and soon determined that Pepper's claws were so dug into that limb, I would probably not be able to get her to release from her temporary comfort zone. 

So back down I came, realizing that I could reach up for the end of the limb and pull it downward.  By golly, that plan worked.  Pepper had been in the tree long enough, and we had bonded enough that she had begun to trust my judgment. 

"Come down, Pepper," I said, "it's okay."  

Well, she must have believed me cuz within seconds, she got up and started making her way down the limb as I pulled it to the ground with all my might.  About four feet from the end of the limb, Pepper's courage came back, and she jumped to the ground. 

She, who loves to playfully evade humans, also let me pick her up and stroke her and carry her to the house where, of course, I was gonna immediately shut that door behind me so Pepper could not get back outside. 

And, so, the cat's meow eventually turned from a pathetic situation to the best feeling ever for cat and the old lady. 

I loved writing those texts to those Pepper fans on the river and at the horse show.  Most of them remembered the fun of the cat rescue from week before and probably fully appreciated my solo super hero feat.  

And, so my great expectations of a Saturday in September went a bit awry but eventually had a happy ending. 

What we do for LOVE!

Plus, the quiche and the homemade tacos and the Love family time last night turned out pretty good too. 

I do wonder, however, if Pepper has learned her lesson about climbing trees, but I think she appreciates me a whole lot more than she did before yesterday.  

And, that truly is the cat's meow!

Happy Sunday.