Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Lost Cat

My cat is missing. He is a home loving little fella, so when he failed to reappear after going outside on Sunday evening I began to feel concerned.

Given our location – the middle of a huge expanse of mixed woodland, parkland and farmland – it was unlikely traffic had finished him off. Or that he’d been catnapped. I had to assume he was on some sort of adventure, which, it turns out, he was.

When this morning came and he still wasn’t home I began the task of making those depressing “Missing Cat” posters, ringing the vets, and – dramatic drum roll – mobilising the estate to look for him! Yes, I have the power to do that, as I am a Very Important Person. And they were probably tired of hearing me go on about the cat.

So, I had a final wander around, making those little pursed-lip squeaky noises that we believe entices felines, and rattling food pouches, before miserably concluding there was nothing more for me to do and leaving for a day off. (A day off! Hooray! I had organised cover, and everything!)

Fast forward a number of hours, to me standing in Woolworths attempting to pay for my motley selection of Halloween items (all essential work related kit) and my mobile phone rings. It is my esteemed colleague.

“At last! I’ve been trying and trying to get hold of you! We’ve had drama!

“What? What’s happened?” (There is always a panicky moment when I am convinced that it’s true, they really can’t manage without me, and the house has detonated or something in my absence).

“We’ve found your cat!”

This is a good thing. Yet I can tell there’s more.

“Oh, fantastic! Where was he?”

“Up a tree.”


“Yes, quite a long way up. Lovely Warden tried to get him down for hours, but the cat just kept climbing higher and higher.”

“Oh no”.

“Yeah, so in the end, the cat was right at the top, and there was nothing for it but to cut down the tree.”


“Don’t worry! The cat leapt clear and sprinted off into the woods before the tree hit the deck, so he must be OK.”

“Right. Yes. Great! Thanks!”

Oh my god. They cut down an enormous Douglas Fir just to get my cat down! Seems a bit, well, drastic. I feel churlish even thinking it, but maybe a small bowl of kitty treats somewhere near the tree might have been another option.

Anyway, the cat has yet to reappear in the homestead. I fear he may have been so traumatised he has gone straight up another tree. Massive deforestation may occur as a result.

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