
So, here's a photo of our adorable second new cat, Buster. Somehow (he won't tell us how), Buster got outside, where he decided to run straight up our big white pine by the bank. This is likely his first trip up a tree, which probably explains why he has no idea how to descend. "Meow, meow," he keeps saying down to us. He just can't get the idea to come down rump-first.
If only he'd gone up our crabapple tree--it would have been an easy matter of putting up the ladder and coaxing him down. But, noooo. So, we've got a fun situation--he's impossibly high, and the ground is covered with snow and ice. Our ladder can be extended to reach him, but I haven't climbed that high since my Navy days, back when I was, oh, a wee bit lighter than I am now. Lithe, I'm not. I'm also not good with heights, due to nearly no stereo vision. (I live in a 2-D reality mostly.) Too risky.
I have visions of me yelling "Aieeeeeeee!!" as the force of gravity pulls me to the snow-covered bank. No thanks.
Who said a cat-filled life was boring? Not me.
So, now that it's dark, we have the problem of raccoons--the ones who hang around our yard after the sun sets. Said raccoons might very well consider Buster a tempting snack, and they might very well go on up after him. (Unlike cats, of course, raccoons can come down face-first.) So, Bev and I will be standing watch from the studio, where we can keep an eye on the tree. Operation: Keep Buster Safe.
Meanwhile, we've put food in the yard (off to the other side) as a diversion. The hope being that our night friends will go for the ground-level munchies and leave Buster alone.
Oh, well. This is my first-ever cat-up-a-tree experience. I've read about these situations, heard about them, watched them on TV, but now... I'm there. Or, rather, he's there. Now, how to get him down?
Lee







