About two weeks ago, I was walking down our street and heard a rather pathetic meowing from a neighbor’s place. I didn’t figure out where it was coming from until later, when the neighbors were out. A cat had gotten himself stuck in the top few feet of their pine tree, and didn’t seem able to get down. He was too high to get with a ladder. We chatted, and they decided to give him overnight to see if he came down on his own.
He did not. I went down the next morning, thinking I might try my old tree-climbing skills. Fortunately, another (younger) neighbor was there first. I ended up holding the ladder while he climbed ladder then treetop to reach the cat.
Cat was removed from tree more-or-less successfully. Cat rubbed up against everyone’s legs in gratitude and hung out for a while before moving on with his cat life.
The following day, my wife and I were walking the dog, and spotted the cat hanging out one street over. It came running over to greet us, and we noticed he had a slight limp. He wasn’t worried about the dog, and continued to rub our legs and purr. He was skinny, his ears filthy and a little bloody from ear mites, but all he wanted to do was snuggle.
Yep, we’re suckers. We took him home and gave him some food and water, then took him in to the vet for a checkup, ear mite treatment, and shots. He didn’t have a chip, and isn’t listed on any of the missing pet sites. As malnourished as he was, he clearly hasn’t had a good home in a while.
I wanted to name him Treebeard. My wife and daughter vetoed that one, pointing out that a) the cat had no beard, and b) Treebeard was the tree — the cat should be named after one of the hobbits who was clinging to the top of said tree.
Today Pippin was released from ear mite quarantine. So far, everything’s going pretty well. Of our other cats, Sophie is cranky about the new addition, but Chewie thinks he has a new best bud to play with. He’s been following Pippin around like they’re best friends from a Disney movie.
I think he’s going to fit in just fine.