Tootsie Roll

When people call me to rescue their cat, one of the questions I always ask is how the cat reacts to strangers on a normal day at home. Does the cat go up to them and greet them happily, sit still and watch, or run and hide? Often I will get an unclear or qualified answer, but Evan didn't need to think about it or qualify his answer: Tootsie Roll runs from everyone. It's guaranteed.

I have a cat like that. My cat not only runs from strangers, he will run from me if he sees me at  an unexpected time or place. He has never been stuck in a tree, but if he were stuck and saw me coming up to rescue him, he would probably climb higher or jump out of the tree. In moments of stress like that, he would react to me just like he would with a stranger.

Of course, that is not the answer I want to hear about a cat I am about to rescue, but it is good to know what to expect from the cat so I can know how best to approach it. In this case, I know to expect Tootsie Roll to feel uncomfortable with me in the tree with him and to do whatever he can to keep a safe distance between us. I know to be extra gentle and patient with him and not to expect any miracles.

Tootsie Roll is a three-year-old kitty in Walker, Louisiana, and he had been stuck in the tree for one night after getting chased by some loose dogs. Evan and his daughter, Kayleigh, were especially worried about him and anxious to get him down as soon as possible. Tootsie Roll was about 30 feet high in a tree in his backyard, and his loud and frequent cries make it clear that he was very distressed. I was glad to see that he was on one of the lowest limbs and that the limb was pretty short, because a short limb makes it easier for me to reach him if he walks out the limb to get away from me.

I climbed up to him slowly with frequent stops filled with sweet talk. I let him know that I saw him, but mostly I looked away and appeared uninterested in him. When I looked at him, I gave him several slow blinks in case that had a positive effect. I climbed closer to him only when he appeared tolerant and was looking at me, because I didn't want to appear like a predator who would try to surprise him by sneaking close only when his head was turned away. As I began to get close, Tootsie's loud cry morphed into a soft, intense, and sustained tone that told me he was getting especially nervous because I was getting too close. I backed off but continued to give him some slow blinks and sweet talk. By the time I was near him, his repeated, loud, distressed cry became softer, relaxed, and less frequent, but he was still far from comfortable with me. I was delighted that he was still in the same place when he could have easily climbed higher or gone out his limb. I reached my hand out low to him for a sniff, and he leaned his head down to sniff it. With that introduction done, I let my hand brush up against his back leg very gently and then pulled away. He reacted by pulling his leg away and standing up, but that touch seemed to flip a switch for him. He faced me and appeared more comfortable now. I touched his back and the top of his head, and he relaxed even more. Tootsie Roll was no longer afraid of this stranger. We were friends.

Tootsie Roll was in the habit of going into his carrier every day, so I brought my carrier with me fully expecting him to happily walk inside. When I held the carrier up to him, however, he didn't know what to do with it. He looked above it, below it, and to the side, but he would not walk inside. At one point, he reached a paw out to my knee, so I began to think the unthinkable: would he actually step on my lap? I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap, and that sweet boy actually stepped on my lap and plopped down. The miracle I knew not to expect had actually occurred. I was thrilled about that, but he plopped his large body over the part of the bag that I needed to pull up around him. I could not secure him inside the bag until I pulled that part of the bag out from under him, and as I did so, it disturbed him enough that he decided it might be best to just step back on the limb. I botched that opportunity, but I wasn't worried because I was sure that I would get another chance. After getting the bag spread out again properly, I looked up and Tootsie was gone. He had stepped on another limb on the opposite side of the tree.

Now I was worried that he might have had a change of heart and decided to get away from me, but when I pulled myself around the tree, he appeared just fine and ready to step on my lap again. When he stepped on my lap this time, I decided that I would just let him ride all the way down to the ground on my lap. I held him on my lap with one hand on the top of his neck and the cat bag prepared on that arm in case he became too fidgety and needed to be secured. The descent path was straight down and free of obstacles, so I descended very slowly and smoothly, and Tootsie handled it very well. About halfway down, he started to reach out to the trunk as if he wanted to get back on the tree again, but I pulled him back and he stayed still until we were three feet off the ground. At that point, he wanted to jump down, and I let him. He was already in his own familiar territory, so he casually walked back toward the house ready to resume his routine.

It is such a great feeling to gain the trust of a scared cat. I am happy enough when the cat just stops fearing me and does not run away, but to have him step on my lap is a golden level of trust. That is a beautiful gift, and it is one that I highly value. Without that trust, the rescue would have been much longer, more strenuous, stressful, unpleasant, and risky, so thank you, Tootsie. You made the rescue much easier for us both.