Wally
"Hey! Ya'll want a cat?" The woman had just arrived at the veterinary clinic and was stepping out of her car when she directed that question to the staff who happened to be outside at the time. Without waiting or listening for an answer, she opened the back door to her car, picked up a small cat, and set it down on the ground. The cat, of course, was terrified to be thrust into this new, strange territory and needed a safe place to go. He ran across the parking lot, climbed a Live Oak tree, and settled nervously on a limb about 20 feet high. The noise from the constantly busy four-lane highway, which was only 30 feet away from the tree, was deafening and frightening even to me. When I go there, I wear earplugs, but the cat didn't have that luxury. The cat was now safe from any immediate danger, but he sat there frightened, uncomfortable, and insecure as the woman drove away.
As insensitive and cruel as this woman's actions were, we should at least be grateful that she had enough decency to bring the cat to a veterinary clinic where we know about it instead of dropping it off in some remote location unknown to anyone. It's the cases we don't see that are even more troubling. This woman is simply a product of an American culture that leaves the teaching of certain cultural values to chance, so it is to be expected that many people simply don't learn them, and, unfortunately, it is up to the rest of us to clean up their messes and relieve the suffering they leave behind. For me, that means going out at dark to rescue a terrified, displaced cat in a tree.
This is my most dreaded kind of rescue, and it is very similar to one I did recently at this same clinic for Hookah Mama only three weeks ago. To rescue a displaced cat who has been in the tree for only a few hours and is still in prey mode, I am more likely to fail than succeed. If I try to rescue the cat too soon, he is likely to regard me as a predator, but if I wait too long, he may climb down, jump, or fall and never be seen again. Displaced cats are usually too afraid to allow me to get close, they won't go into a trap, and they are more likely to jump or fall, and I am terrified that they will run into traffic or into hiding where they will never be found. I don't like having this responsibility, but, still, I must try.
I knew nothing about this cat except that the woman was obviously able to pick it up, so it must have at least a minimal level of tameness. When I arrived, the cat appeared to be resting calmly on the limb, so that was reassuring. He was a small, gray-and-white kitty, probably a juvenile I would guess to be about six months old. When I tried to install my rope above him, he was disturbed enough to walk back toward the trunk a bit. That required me to change my plan and install my rope in a more central location so that I could limit the cat's movement and keep him restricted to his limb.
I climbed up to him as gently as I could, and he watched me closely without the slightest movement or sound. If he were feral, he would have turned away at least by the time I was level with him, but he continued to rest on his belly facing me, and I could not detect any tension in his muscles. His silent poker-face, however, looked like he could become super friendly or super aggressive at any moment. I tested him to see how close I could move my hand toward him, and he tolerated it at every increment as I advanced it. I offered some food to him just to prove my friendly intentions, and, as expected, he showed no interest in it. Staying in place was the only sign of cooperation I was going to get out of him, so I moved my hand close enough to touch him. He had no reaction to that, so I kept incrementally increasing the touch until I was able to pet his head and neck. Still, no reaction. I was clearly not going to be able to turn this little guy into a friendly, outgoing kitty, so I prepared the cat bag on my arm, petted him another time or two, and then I grabbed his scruff and pulled him off his limb while I pulled the bag around him. He offered no resistance or complaint. I secured him inside the bag and reassured him while I held him a moment before taking him down.
