Frank

Poor Frank. He is only nine-months old and has been tossed around like a bag of trash. First, he was adopted as a kitten by a woman who, after a few months, decided she did not want him anymore. She gave him to a friend who also soon decided not to keep him and coldly turned him loose. Lucky for Frank, however, Jamie noticed him wandering near her house on a cold night, and she took him in. When she found he had a microchip, she contacted the registered owner, and that is how she learned of his past. He is such a sweet kitty, it's hard to imagine why anyone would discard him.

 Jamie and her husband took care of him and gave him a home, at least temporarily, while they tried to figure out if they would keep him or find a good home for him. Just two weeks later, Frank got stuck in a neighbor's tree and started crying loudly for someone to help him. Jamie was not sure what to do, but fortunately, she had a friend who told her who to call. Jamie called me early in the morning after Frank's first night in the tree. She sounded stressed about the situation, especially considering that rain was approaching and she had an important meeting scheduled for later in the morning and would not be able to join me for the rescue. I gathered all the information I needed and got ready to go out there as quickly as I could, because I, too, wanted to beat the rain.

I arrived at the site to find Frank perched 50 feet high on the top junction of the tree, and he was crying loudly. He wanted down, and he wanted down now. The best place to install my rope, as is often the case, was precisely where Frank was now standing. I got ready to shoot my line over that junction, but before I did so, I walked off to one side and called for Frank to follow me. He walked out a limb in my direction, and I rushed back to shoot my line over the junction he had just vacated. I installed my rope there and began to climb up to him.

When I climbed as high as I could go, I found Frank there resting on a limb facing me. His chest was wedged tightly between some small sprouts shooting up from the limb, but he was not trapped there. He was mostly quiet now, and I reached my hand out to him. He sniffed it and soon let me touch and pet him. He was sweet and soon began rubbing his head on the limb, but he would not come any closer to me.


 I ducked under the limb that was between us and pulled myself closer to him. I still could not get him to come even a foot closer toward the trunk of the tree. He was just out of comfortable reach, but I could probably grab him by the scruff and lift him out. However, I was concerned that I could not see his back end and did not know if I would have any difficulty freeing his back legs. I did not want to risk turning an easy rescue into a difficult one, so I decided to see if I could lure him out of that position with some food.

 Though he did not seem to recognize the sound when I opened a can of food, he was interested in the food and finally stood up and came down where I wanted him. I let him have a bite and then watch me put the food in the back of the carrier. I held the carrier up to him, and he thought about it a minute before walking inside. He stepped all the way inside to eat some more while I closed the door. Easy rescue.


 I brought him down, and, to my surprise, Jamie was there to take him home. It was almost time for her important meeting, so I did not expect her to be there. But she had just enough time to take him home, get him settled and still go back to her meeting.


Jamie sent this picture of the sweet boy to me later. As of now, she and her husband have not decided if they are going to keep him or not, so, if you want to adopt a very sweet, deserving, nine-month old brown marble tabby, you may have some trouble talking them into letting him go.