The story begins with a family outing. Me, mom, my niece and her 3 daughters went out to a Goodwill Outlet and then to lunch at a Ponderosa (Sizzler for you west coasties). Mom and I went to the grocery then went to our community garden plot at Possum Creek. Mom headed home about 5 pm at which time all 4 of the boys were underfoot at Kia Rio.
At some point during the next 45 minutes or so, I glanced out the living room window, and for a moment I thought I saw Jaz follow a smallish dog into the IF. Well, I really did not believe Jaz was tailing a dog, so I surmised it was the organish colored cat that comes round once in a while.
Around 8:30 pm I started calling the boys to come in. Normally, Heljye, Ollie and Jaz all come with the first or second call. If they don’t, the dog whistle will bring them. Heljye came. Jaz came. No Ollie. I fed those two, and gave Ollie another 20 or 30 minutes and dog whistled again. Waited. Whistled. Saw Sunggs laying in the flower bed. Picked him up and brought him in.
Put on long sleeves, long pants, work boots and bug spray. Took flashlight and dog whistle. Walked south on Rt 4 looking for signs of trouble and whistling in case he followed that orange cat, and was too far from home to know how to get back.
Nothing. Stood in yard and whistled. Nothing. Went in house and waited. Went back outside and whistled around the yard. Now, by this point it was after 11 and the traffic had nearly stopped so I had periods of relative quiet. Standing still I finally heard a soft mew.
Ollie.
I called and he mewed again. I got a general direction. I called. Nothing. I called. Nothing. I stood motionless. Nothing. I whistled. Nothing. Shit. Cannot find him if he does not mew. Called. He mewed enough for me to narrow down his general vicinity. Flashlight around the IF up and down. Mew is loud. Mew is above me. Mew is above me by about 20 feet maybe???
Flashlight lands on Ollie, hanging straddled over a branch joint in a very skinny nearly branchless tree. He mews. I call, I pat the tree, he looks at me, back feet dangling in the air. Mew mew mew. Well, he wiggles a bit but makes no significant moves.
So, Jaz was following a dog. Well, I am pretty sure it was the same dog that sent Heljye up a tree some time back. Heljye was not so high, and I found him within 30 minutes of the dog scare. Before I could get the step ladder, he had gotten himself down.
It would seem that Ollie had been up his tree for at least 3 hours and probably more like 5, since it was before 6 when I saw Jaz tailing the dog. He had to be tired and scared.
Well, I went in the garage, got the punie little 6 ft aluminum ladder and went back to the IF. I set the ladder up, climbed up as high as I could on the ladder and stretched my arms toward him and spoke very encouragingly. He wiggled around and managed to move his position, but did not seem to have a CLUE about how to back down a tree.
Now, this was a skinny tree and it had a curve in it that was concave, from the side we were on. Cannot blame him for not coming down head first. Well, after about 20 minutes of cajoling him with no progress I realized I need to close the gap up some more for him to feel safer.
That required more height on my part. Now, by this point it is after midnight. Cannot get the Jeep in here, it is just too dense to get through. This ladder is the tallest one I have.
Aha! Mom has an extension ladder in her garage. So, I tell Ollie I will be back soon. I call mom and feel bad cause I am going to wake her up, but better than her getting scared by someone messing in the garage in the middle of the night. She doesn’t answer so I assume she was in REM and the phone didn’t do the trick. Kinda glad really.
I get to mom’s, load the ladder on the Jeep, tie it down all the while the dog across the street is barking like mad. I go home and on the drive try to sort out how to get him down the ladder once I actually get my hands on him. Need both hands to climb the ladder, so what to do with a scared kitten?
Aha! I’ll get my daypack and wear it on my front like I did when I was backpacking the South Pacific countries. I’ll pop his scared little but in it and try not to bump him too much on the way down.
Well, I had REALLY hoped that Ollie would be on the front porch when I got back from mom’s… but he wasn’t so, I called out to him, unloaded the ladder, went inside and got the back pack and tied a bandana on my head. It is now about 1 am and I am headed into the Impenetrable Forest with an extension ladder. The ladder is probably 16 feet long (I think that is the shortest those come) and that is without the extension extended.
Nothing like walking around the woods at 1 am with a 16 foot ladder and a flashlight…
I find his tree, move the 6 foot baby ladder out of the way so I can set the extension ladder up. Now, this tree is skinny. Like, the trunk at the point where the ladder top hits it, is maybe 6 inches in diameter. Not much substance to be setting a ladder against.
Now. The other little detail is the large volume of rain in the recent weeks. Ground is SATURATED. I don’t know how strong this tree’s roots are holding in the soft ground.
But, my little precious pumpkin is up the tree and cannot seem to get himself down. I cannot go to bed knowing he is hanging there and has been for HOURS.
Ok, ladder is set, flashlight in hand, backpack strapped on. Wiggle wiggle on the ladder. Seems sturdy enough. I climb. I reach what I feel is a reasonable height. I hook the backpack strap over the end of the ladder and then hook the flashlight handle over the end of the ladder. I reach up to my mewing little kitten. He just looks at me. I shine the flashlight up at him, his look seems pleading. I reach, I call. There is probably 6 feet between me and him. Six feet of skinny tree trunk with not much slope. After about 20 minutes of this and an increasingly sore neck, I climb down. I stand on the ground and call to him. This isn’t going to get it. He isn’t feeling safe enough, the gap is too big.
I contemplate. I size up the tree. I decide that being on the other side of the tree will probably allow me to get a few feet closer to my baby. I start tromping saplings, breaking small limbs and clearing out enough space to move the ladder and be able to climb it without being a brush face.
I move the ladder. The ground is pretty uneven on this side. The ladder is sitting at a tilt. There is not much for me to work with. I test the ladder on the bottom rung. It slides precariously. I reconsider. I call Ollie. He looks pitiful, hanging there, little eyes closed. Clearly he is worn out.
I have to sort it out. I fiddle with ladder, make it taller, reposition it. It is now close to 2 am. I am feeling like my options are dwindling. I test the ladder, nope. I reposition, I test again. Meanwhile, the night sounds of the forest are alive and well. Lots of little noises going on.
I finally get it where I feel I can safely climb. Well, ok, it is 2 am and I am alone in the woods climbing an extension ladder propped against a very skinny tree. So, ALL things considered, it is as safe as it is gonna get. I start the climb and second guess myself. I climb down to check the locks to make sure they are secure. I check the angle. I climb again.
I am closer. My outstretched right hand is about 4 feet from him. My left is wrapped around that little tree trunk holding on nice and tight! I pat the tree. He seems encouraged. He makes some moves. I get excited. He stops. I get the flashlight and shine it on the tree trunk. He wants to come down to me, but isn’t. I hear the raccoons screeching nearby. Not good, must get kitten out of the tree.
I call. He wiggles. He stops, closes his eyes and just hangs, back feet dangling. I start to feel defeated. I briefly consider the fire department. But wait. I am in the middle of a woods. Not happening.
It is me and Ollie.
I realize that if he had something that he felt he could land on, he would make a move. I inspect this overgrown sapling with no significant branches and realize there is no place for me to build a makeshift platform. There is one branch that is within my reach that is about 1.5 inches around. That is it. It is just above the red tip of the ladder.
Ollie is stranded on that next large branch about 4 feet above it.
Okay, so no platform is a possibility. How else can he have something to aim for. Did I mention it is after 2 am now? So, there I stand on that ladder, thinking. Then I see the distant shock of bright from a streak of lightening. Shit. And then I hear the patter of light rain falling on the canopy over me. Gotta get him outta this tree and now.
Well, idiot decides the only thing else I have for him to jump on is the top of my head. Fool you say??? Well, I stood there, left arm wrapped tightly around the tree, face pressed against it (bracing) with my right hand patting my head and calling my cat. Encouraging him to jump on my head, me on a ladder propped against a skinny tree, alone in the woods at 2 am.
Ok, I am laughing so hard at my stupid self that I can hardly type. I am not sure I can EVER call myself educated again.
So there I am. I am somewhat intelligent. I am calling my cat, patting my head and thinking all the while. OK, when he hits, all 20 claws are sinking into my skull. How do I: (1) keep from careening backwards off the ladder and ending up in broken bits (2) how do I survive 20 claws in the head and then the slashes down the back, (3) how do I keep Ollie from a really long free fall when he lets go of me, (4) how do I avoid crushing him when I land on him, (5) how do I pay for the medical bills since I have no insurance, no job, no job prospects, no more savings, and (6) how long will it be before mom gets my message about my getting her ladder, calls me, gets no answer and gets worried and comes looking for me and finds my damaged self sprawled on the floor of the IF? And, how do I EVER live this down?
Yet, I continued to pat my stupid self on the top of the head and call his name.
It is at this point that I say to myself “You are not Sherry.”
Ok, Sherry, you KNOW exactly what I am talking about. The rest of you… well, my beloved older sister Sherry always seems to get herself into some (I love you sissy) stupid shit. Like the time when she lived in a very busy subdivision. One morning she went up into the storage space above the garage to get some things out. The garage door was open to the street. She was wearing a night gown. A few minutes later, Lucy, I mean Sherry, was hanging through the now broken ceiling - dangling by her arms with her bare ass swinging above the garage floor. And of course people are going by. This is classic Sherry.
I am NOT Sherry. Yet, here I stand patting my head and calling my cat. WTF?
After many attempts, it is clear that Ollie is SMARTER than me.
Ok, plan, what D, or is it E or K? What to do, what to do? My neck hurts from staring straight up a tree.
I then have my stroke of genius (work with me on this). Redemption is in the offing. At the thrift store I bought a 20 quart canning kettle for canning our garden spoils. Ha! I’ll go get that canning kettle and balance it on that 1.5 inch limb and get a small board and make a ramp into it so little Ollie will walk the ramp into it and I can lower him to the ground and we can GO TO BED.
I tell Ollie I will be back in a few. He is just hanging there, little eyes closed, back feet dangling. Exhausted. My precious baby.
I climb down and on the way out of the IF, realize that canning kettle is not big enough. As luck would have it, I have a round plastic tub (the kind you put ice and beer in, but not a huge one, smallish). I get it. I get the left over clothesline and tie it to the handles of the plastic bucket. I get a piece of particle board that is about 14 inches by 30 inches and put it in the tub. I carry all this back to the tree.
I move the 6 foot ladder over and put it against the tree. I set the tub with the board in it on the top of the 6 ft ladder and rest it against the tree. It is 2:30 am. I climb the ladder, stopping to get the clothesline. I wrap the end of the clothesline around that little 1.5 inch branch. I start to hoist the tub up, it slips and falls.
This does not bode well for kitten.
I pull it back up and as the tub nears me, realize the board is too much. I dump the tub so the board falls to the ground. I am a bit giddy with the prospect of a resolution. The tub is now in my hand. I have to now get it above my head, balance it on that little branch and make sure the clothesline is ready and somewhat secure.
I fiddle around and then, standing way up on that ladder, USE BOTH hands to hold that plastic tub up over my head and try to wedge in between the branch and trunk. No hands on the ladder.
Ummmmmmmmm stuuuuuuuupid, yes?
Well, I was close enough to the tree that I could have sunk my ever so slightly buck teeth into the bark, but I didn’t. I stood there, arms above my head, looking UP no less, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to hold that bucket steady when he stepped into it, cause I KNEW he would step into it.
At this point I thought to myself. Thank goodness this wasn’t Jaz, 16 pounds, no way. Or Heljye. He is now bigger than Snuggs. If it had to be anyone, Ollie was the best choice, weight wise. My wee one. So, as I stand there trying to figure out how to securely hold it and how long I can stand like this, I feel PRESSURE. I lean over. I already told you I was STUPID.
I see my darling little Ollie’s behind with his back feet on the branch he was hanging over and his front paws appeared to be resting on the rim. Yipppee! Ok, now how to get him all the way in????
I slightly shook the tub. What the hell. One more stupid move… gotta tempt the fates.
I felt the rest of his weight in the tub. Excellent. I am now up on an extension ladder holding a plastic tub above my head, with both hands, tub is kinda wedged between the little branch and the tree and there is now a 9 lb cat moving around in the tub. (they may refuse to give me my degrees when I get the internships done…)
Now, ALL I have to do is to figure out how to get that tub down without dropping it, cause I don’t have a 3rd hand to grab the clothesline with. I really don’t know how I finagled it, but I did.
I now had an Ollie, who I could not see in the dark night in that black tub, and I was lowering the tub by the clothesline. I then felt the tub rock and get light, just before I felt it hit ground. I got the flashlight off the end of the ladder and shined it down.
Ollie was standing on the trampled vegetation, sniffing at something. That is my Ollie Olfactory! 8 hours stuck in a tree in the woods and when he hits the ground? Smelling stuff.
So, just before 3 am, I scooped little Ollie up and took him to the house.
I left the OlliEvator in the IF.
I took a shower and we crashed.
The next morning the phone range around 8:30 am. I ignored it, but knew it was mom so I had to get up, least she decide I was laying in a paraplegic heap in the IF and rush over here scared to death. When I got up she had left a message. “When did your brain go on vacation?” Now, little did she know the extent of it…
When I called and told her the tale, I am pretty sure she wet herself...
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