Eggo

I drove over to Laynee's house in Denham Springs, Louisiana expecting to do a routine rescue for her one-year-old cat, Eggo, but, when she led me to the woods behind her house and pointed to her cat at the tip top of the tree, I knew this was not going to be routine. Eggo was crying loudly to us from the top of a skinny, flimsy Tallow tree, and when I say "top," I mean like the star on top of a Christmas tree. Eggo was balancing on tiny twigs that were barely able to hold her weight, and she could not get comfortable there. I don't know how she managed to stay there like that overnight, but she did. The more she moved, the more likely she would fall, and I warned Laynee of that real possibility.

The only thing good about this non-native Tallow tree was that it makes some pretty colors in the Fall as it was doing this day. Other than that, this tree had nothing to offer me. It was clearly unclimbable since even the weight of the cat was causing the skinny stem to sway back and forth. There was a Pine tree to the right that was sturdier than the Tallow tree but not by much. In order to rescue the cat, I would need to climb the Pine tree as high as the cat and pull the top of the flimsy Tallow tree over to me, and it was not at all clear that the Pine tree would support me at that height or even if the cat would be receptive to that. If I can't climb all the way up to the cat, then, hopefully, I can climb at least high enough to reach the cat with a catch-pole. The Pine tree was my only choice, so I proceeded to install my rope there even though it had no substantial limbs. Due to troubles and bad luck, it took me an hour and a half to get my rope installed in that tree, and I still was not feeling confident in my plan.

As I climbed up the Pine tree, I was paying attention to how much my weight was causing the stem to curve, and once I was about four feet below the cat's height, I felt I had reached the limit. At that point, I reached over to place a rope on the Tallow tree about five feet below the cat. I was careful not to move or shake the tree and make Eggo feel unstable, but, even so, she reacted with hissing, spitting and growling. She felt vulnerable there in her delicate spot, and she didn't want me messing with her at all. Even five feet was too close for her comfort. The rope was for pulling her slowly and gently toward me, but I had not begun to do that yet, and, after seeing how threatened she felt, I no longer wanted to do so.

I was positioned on the Tallow side of the Pine tree, so my weight caused the Pine tree to lean toward the Tallow tree. I wish I could say that I planned it this way, but, because of the lean, there happened to be a significant limb above me on the Pine tree that was now in a position directly in front of Eggo. She noticed this limb and found it attractive because it would be more comfortable and stable than the tiny twigs where she had been standing for so long. She stepped onto the limb and stopped there about five feet away from me. When I reached my hand toward her, she resumed her growling and hissing, and this was a problem. I felt fortunate to be so close to Eggo, but I could not rescue her as long as she had that cantankerous attitude toward me. I tried to befriend her in all the usual ways, but nothing seemed to make one bit of difference. Her growling and hissing lessened and eventually stopped, but her hostile attitude did not.

If Eggo had been friendly, this rescue could be just about over, but now I had to adjust my plan. I wasn't expecting a hostile rescue, so the only thing I knew to do was to go all the way back down, retrieve the catch-pole, and climb back up. Before climbing back up the tree again, I decided at the last minute to bring the carrier with me because I thought there was a possibility that Eggo might go for it. When I climbed back up to her, I first tried to befriend her one more time, but her attitude had not changed. Before resorting to the catch-pole, I decided to try the carrier. I could hold the carrier on the limb in front of her and make it easy for her to step inside. From her point of view after being stuck on tiny twigs for so long, the carrier would look very appealing since she would have room to spread out on a large, flat floor. Plus, she would not have to worry about falling anymore, she would be better hidden, she would be out of the sun, and she would also feel safer having a protective barrier between us. I didn't know if she would go for it, but I gave it a try, and, to my great relief, she walked straight into the carrier without any hesitation. I slowly pulled the carrier off the limb so I could reach the door, and, when I closed the door, she hissed and growled at me one last time. I didn't mind that at all now that I had her secured inside.

As I took Eggo on the long descent back to the ground, I felt very happy and lucky that this worked out so well. Once on the ground, I gave her to Laynee, and she carried Eggo, still in the carrier, back inside the house. Eggo really is a sweet cat. I just didn't get to see that side of her. I don't blame her for being so grouchy after being stuck on those tiny twigs for so long. After all, we have all been grouchy in situations much less severe than this, and, like Eggo, we have been blind to how our attitude just complicates and worsens the matter. If this happens again, I hope I get to see Eggo's sweet side, and I hope I can remember to show mine as well.