Little Girl

When Tiffany called me to rescue her cat in a tree in Carriere, Mississippi, I was not concerned about the weather even though hurricane Isaias was due to make landfall that morning. The outer rain bands of the storm were close to Carriere but not expected to get any closer, so I felt it was safe to proceed. When I arrived at the site, the sky was blue, but, of course, conditions were windy. I was still not concerned until I looked up into the tall, skinny Sweetgum tree and saw the sweet nine-month-old cat, named Little Girl, at the top of the tree swaying wildly from side to side in the wind gusts. 

Little Girl was roughly 45 feet high and crying loudly in distress as she held tightly to the small limbs where she had settled, and I was having some serious doubts about reaching this little girl safely. The small stem of the tree rose straight up about 40 feet where it split into two smaller vertical stems, and Little Girl was up higher on one of those smaller stems. Where the stem split, there was a large nest in that junction, and I did not want to climb any higher than that nest. From what I learned about Little Girl, I thought there was a very good chance that she would come down toward me at least a little bit once she saw me getting close to her. That often happens as a desperate cat gets excited to see help coming and develops the courage to move downward a short distance. For our safety, I really wanted her to do that, and I was counting on her to come down to the nest where I could rescue her.

In a scenario like this one, I probably will not be able to climb up level with the cat. Instead, I expect to settle where the cat is just over my head, and that limits my rescue options. Normally, in an "overhead" scenario like this one, I like to hold the carrier above my head and let the cat walk inside it. Little Girl was a perfect candidate for this, but I was dreading having to weave the bulky carrier and my body up through the dense, tightly-spaced, small limbs to reach her, so I decided not to bring it with me. I would later regret that decision.

When I climbed up the tree to the nest, I was happy to see that Little Girl appeared receptive, but she was not excited enough to come down any lower. She was in an uncomfortable position with her weight resting on tiny limbs, but, while she would adjust her position frequently, she did not appear even to consider moving down a bit to larger, more comfortable limbs.

I did not want to go higher, but Little Girl was not helping me. I began to work my way up higher during the relatively calm periods between the strong wind gusts. I was on the side of the stem from which the wind was coming, so, when the strong wind gusts came, I would lean backward into the wind away from the tree to help counterbalance the force on the tree. I also kept my weight on my feet and used ropes cinched to the stems at chest level or above only to help hold myself upright. I could usually hear when a gust was coming by the sound it made in the trees far behind me, so I had a few seconds to prepare for its arrival. When I am looking down at the ground during a wind gust, I get a sense of how much I am swaying, but when I am looking straight ahead toward the tree, I don't notice how much the tree and I are both swaying in the wind because my position relative to the tree does not change much. For the same reason, the video of the rescue (below) will not convey the degree of movement very effectively.

Between the wind gusts, I eventually climbed to where I could stand where the large nest was, and I could barely reach Little Girl with one hand. She was comfortable with me and let me pet her, but she still was not moving an inch closer to me. I tried using a squeeze-tube treat to lure her down a little bit, but she stayed glued to her spot. I was wasting time trying to get her to move, and that was putting us more at risk with the frequent wind gusts. I wished I had brought the carrier with me because I am pretty certain she would have readily stepped inside it if I held it up to her. Instead, I prepared the cat bag on my arm, reached up to her until I could barely reach her neck, and then lifted her out of her spot and pulled the bag down around her. I did not like to be so rough with this sweet girl, but it needed to be done, and it needed to be done now. She was secured in the bag, and I placed her on my lap and patted her through the bag to reassure her and let her know that she was safe. Then I began to work my way back down.

Once we were safely back on the ground, all was well again. Tiffany took Little Girl inside to release her but then carried her back outside for a short visit while I packed up my gear. After I left, Little Girl settled in for a nap with her brothers who had missed her while she was in the tree overnight.