Tate and Basil

Three of the last four rescues I have done were for unknown cats, and now I have yet another one on my agenda. Morgan discovered this cat at the top of a tree at the edge of her rural property and tried to help the cat get down, but nothing was working. She did not recognize the cat, and her neighbors are not close, but the cat appeared friendly since it cried out to her and begged for help every time she went out to see it. By the time I arrived, it had been in the tree for three nights.

I was a bit dismayed to see that this Sweetgum tree had no significant limbs except for the junction at the top of the tree, and that is where the cat had settled. With the cat occupying the only large limb in the whole tree, I had no place to install my rope, and that is an unusual problem to have in a tree of this size where the trunk is more than two feet in diameter. The only way I was able to climb this tree was to use a slow and tedious technique that is normally appropriate for small stems, but on a stem of this size, it was much more difficult and strenuous. This would not be a problem for climbing a short distance, but this cat was 55 feet high, and that is not something I enjoy doing on a hot summer day like this. Still, I had no other option, and I was determined to bring this cat down safely.

Fortunately, the cat turned out to be sweet and cooperative as I expected, and I had no trouble earning his trust. I could not get into a position where I could make a lap for him, but I made a make-shift bed for him by spreading my cat bag over my body and harness, and I lifted him out of his perch and placed him there. It wasn't a particularly comfortable bed, and he was a bit fidgety, but it wasn't difficult to secure him inside the bag. The ride back down to the ground was much quicker than the climb up to him, and while he was still in the bag, I checked him for a microchip and was pleased to find one. After that, I let him out of the bag so we could feed him. Morgan's mother had already planned to take the cat to the local humane society, and I felt much better about that once I found the microchip. Microchip registries are often reluctant to give me much information because I am not a veterinarian, shelter or registered nonprofit organization, so the humane society would be more effective at contacting the owner, and they will take care of the cat until they do. Indeed, shortly before I returned home, I got a call saying that the owner was found, and it turned out to be Morgan's neighbor far behind her house. The cat's name is Tate, he is two years old, and he was already safe at home with his family.

The next rescue was for Tony and his cat, Basil, a two-year-old gray tabby boy who was stuck for one night in a Sweetgum tree in his backyard in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Basil was only twenty feet high and sounded desperate to get down, but he had some reservations about me and needed a few minutes to warm up to me. A squeeze-tube treat helped with that, and I soon had him stepping on my lap where I had already spread the bottom of the cat bag. I pulled the sides of the bag up around him and took him back down. Tony carried him back inside the house, and they were both very relieved to be back together and safe again. Basil eventually settled in for a nap in a different kind of tree which is much more comfortable than the one outside.