Three Unknowns

After eleven days of complete silence, I suddenly got calls for three rescues to do in one day,  Such is the irregular and unpredictable nature of my rescue schedule. To make it even more interesting, all three rescues were for unknown cats. To be clear, all these cats likely have an owner. We just don't know who they are because the cats got stuck on someone else's property, and it was the property owners who noticed the cat and called me.

The first rescue was for an unknown, juvenile orange tabby who was stuck in a tree for three nights in a backyard in Central, Louisiana. The kitty appeared friendly and talkative, so I was expecting a relatively easy rescue. Installing my rope in the tree scared him a bit, and he moved farther away from his original spot. That caused me to create even more commotion in the tree as I had to move over and around some limbs to approach him in his new position. Even though he didn't appear to be highly distressed, he decided to walk farther out on his limb and move over to a limb in another tree. From there he walked as far away from me as he could, and, to my surprise, without hesitation, he jumped to the ground. He wasn't high, so he managed the landing just fine and ran off out of sight, but this is far from the ending I wanted or expected. Given the circumstances, I'm not sure I could have done much differently to prevent him from jumping, but I wish I could do it over again to see. I worry about these unknown cats who jump because I don't know if they have a home, if they are lost, or if they are suffering, and I will likely never know the answer. Sometimes, making a bad situation a little better is the best I can do. At least he is not stuck in a tree any longer.

From there, I drove back to Baton Rouge to see what I could do for an unknown cat who was stuck on the roof of a backyard shed for at least three nights. The roof was tin and very hot on this hot, sunny, summer day, so the cat was huddled at the edge in the shade of some overhanging foliage of a nearby tree. The edge of the roof was easily accessible by the six-foot step ladder that the property owner had already placed there, so I stepped up on the ladder and called the cat to come to me. The sweet, torby girl readily came straight to me and let me pet her, but I was not quite close enough to lift her. I went back to my car to get a carrier, stepped back up the ladder, and called her to me again with the open carrier facing her. She stepped inside the carrier where the footing was much cooler, and I closed the door and brought her down to a shady spot on the ground. Rescues don't get much easier than this. I fed this sweet girl, and while she ate, I checked her for a microchip but did not find one. She was relaxed and no threat to bolt, so I left the carrier door open while she ate. I wanted to see how comfortable she felt in this territory. She was not nervous or uncomfortable. After eating, she began to walk confidently down the neighbor's driveway as if she knew exactly where she was and where she was going, so I feel pretty confident that she lives nearby and went back home. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to show.

The last rescue of the day was in another Baton Rouge backyard for a Siamese cat who had been stuck in a very large Live Oak tree for one night. The property owner recognized the cat as a super-friendly kitty who is frequently seen in the neighborhood, but the cat's owner is unknown. When I arrived, the cat was curled up and napping in the main branch union in the center of the tree, but, again, installing my rope in the tree above him made him nervous enough to walk out a very long, horizontal branch. Honestly, I do the best I can to minimize the commotion when installing my rope, and I did pretty well this time, but it just doesn't take much to scare a cat in a tree. I wish I had a better way to do it. I gave him time to settle down, and then I climbed up to his limb and sat on it far from him. He watched me, but he needed some evidence that I was a trustworthy guy before he was going to take one step in my direction. Opening a can of food was all the evidence he needed. Once he heard me pull the top off the can, he hurried straight to me and started living up to his friendly reputation. He rubbed his head all over me, so I knew I could get him to step on my lap. I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap, and, since the canned food wasn't very appealing to him, I used a squeeze-tube treat to lure him on my lap. Once he placed all four legs on my lap, I pulled the sides of the bag up around him and took him down to the ground. Even though I knew he lived nearby, I checked him for a microchip in case there was a need for it, and I found one. I lowered the bag around him and let him go at his own pace. He knew where he was and where to go, so he ambled off to resume socializing with everyone in his territory.