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I love it when a plan comes together...
Dec. 19th, 2011 08:25 pmI let Zorra out a couple of nights ago, and when she hadn't shown up asking to come back in or responded to my calling her from the back door, I went for a walk around the house to see if I could attract her to me by calling her name while on the move (and shaking a bowl of kibble).
After a few moments, I heard Zorra, somewhere over by the fence near the road, but as I walked down the driveway, it seemed that perhaps Zorra was actually across the street. By the time I hit the road, the suspicion had turned to a certaintly. Her meowing seemed to be coming from the base of the wall of the building across the road.
But as I crossed the road and approached the wall, it became clear my attention was not directed high enough. Looking up, I saw—backlit by a night sky that is never quite black because of our proximity to civilization—the outline of something the size of a cat sitting on the ridge of the roof. I quickly went back to the house to get a flashlight, to make sure it was Zorra.
It was.
I hauled Galina out from in front of the television and broke out the 12-foot ladder, and together, Galina and I tried to coax the cat down, and Zorra actually did tiptoe down the fairly steep incline of the roof twice—meowing all the way—but never far enough to allow me to grab her. Finally Galina and I were too tired and too cold and too out of ideas.
Yesterday dawned with Zorra sitting on top of a chimney whose flue had apparently been cemented over. One thing the photos below don't show very well are all of the wires strung in front of and next to that building across the street.
Do you see our Zorra? If not, here's a "zoom" of the area above the fork of the tree that's about a third of the way in from the right-hand side.
I called the local fire department, but they were not very helpful. I seem to recall a time shortly after my parents moved into the house where one of our cats climbed a tree in the back yard and could not get down. Back then, at least the fire department sent a truck, along with an officer whose wry observation—to the effect that had never encountered a cat skeleton in a tree—did not have its desired humorous effect on my grandmother. This time, not even a truck came out for the sake of appearances.
I tried coaxing Zorra down about a half a dozen times yesterday, having replaced the 12-foot ladder with the longer 20-footer that extends to nearly 40 feet (although 20 feet was enough to reach the edge of the roof from the ground). Galina also spoke with the fire department in the next town over, but they weren't very helpful either.
This morning, I steeled myself for the worst, fully expecting no reaction at all from the ball of fluff on top of the chimney across the street, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear Zorra still meowing, albeit with less vigor. And then I came up with a plan.
There were no spare hands to take pictures, but basically, Galina and I extended the long ladder and planted it so that the last few feet of the upper portion lay flat on the roof. With Galina holding the bottom end firmly in place, I climbed the ladder until I was almost on the roof, then I reached down, hauled up the 12-foot ladder, extended it, positioned it in line with the first ladder, and lashed the two ladders together. I then continued to go up the slope of the roof on the second ladder until I got to the chimney. Then I sat up.
Boy, was Zorra surprised to see me!
I spent little time admiring the view. Instead, I grabbed the cat, wrapped her in a sheet, and carefully worked my way back to the ground. Zorra meowed a lot, but refrained from trying to scratch me.
In the end, it was a hat trick: Cat rescued, rescuer uninjured, and roof undamaged.
Galina was happy, and so was I.
Zorra just made a beeline for her food once she got home.
Cheers...
After a few moments, I heard Zorra, somewhere over by the fence near the road, but as I walked down the driveway, it seemed that perhaps Zorra was actually across the street. By the time I hit the road, the suspicion had turned to a certaintly. Her meowing seemed to be coming from the base of the wall of the building across the road.
But as I crossed the road and approached the wall, it became clear my attention was not directed high enough. Looking up, I saw—backlit by a night sky that is never quite black because of our proximity to civilization—the outline of something the size of a cat sitting on the ridge of the roof. I quickly went back to the house to get a flashlight, to make sure it was Zorra.
It was.
I hauled Galina out from in front of the television and broke out the 12-foot ladder, and together, Galina and I tried to coax the cat down, and Zorra actually did tiptoe down the fairly steep incline of the roof twice—meowing all the way—but never far enough to allow me to grab her. Finally Galina and I were too tired and too cold and too out of ideas.
Yesterday dawned with Zorra sitting on top of a chimney whose flue had apparently been cemented over. One thing the photos below don't show very well are all of the wires strung in front of and next to that building across the street.
Do you see our Zorra? If not, here's a "zoom" of the area above the fork of the tree that's about a third of the way in from the right-hand side.
I called the local fire department, but they were not very helpful. I seem to recall a time shortly after my parents moved into the house where one of our cats climbed a tree in the back yard and could not get down. Back then, at least the fire department sent a truck, along with an officer whose wry observation—to the effect that had never encountered a cat skeleton in a tree—did not have its desired humorous effect on my grandmother. This time, not even a truck came out for the sake of appearances.
I tried coaxing Zorra down about a half a dozen times yesterday, having replaced the 12-foot ladder with the longer 20-footer that extends to nearly 40 feet (although 20 feet was enough to reach the edge of the roof from the ground). Galina also spoke with the fire department in the next town over, but they weren't very helpful either.
This morning, I steeled myself for the worst, fully expecting no reaction at all from the ball of fluff on top of the chimney across the street, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear Zorra still meowing, albeit with less vigor. And then I came up with a plan.
There were no spare hands to take pictures, but basically, Galina and I extended the long ladder and planted it so that the last few feet of the upper portion lay flat on the roof. With Galina holding the bottom end firmly in place, I climbed the ladder until I was almost on the roof, then I reached down, hauled up the 12-foot ladder, extended it, positioned it in line with the first ladder, and lashed the two ladders together. I then continued to go up the slope of the roof on the second ladder until I got to the chimney. Then I sat up.
Boy, was Zorra surprised to see me!
I spent little time admiring the view. Instead, I grabbed the cat, wrapped her in a sheet, and carefully worked my way back to the ground. Zorra meowed a lot, but refrained from trying to scratch me.
In the end, it was a hat trick: Cat rescued, rescuer uninjured, and roof undamaged.
Galina was happy, and so was I.
Zorra just made a beeline for her food once she got home.
Cheers...
