Rick was shivering in the 15 degree weather, straining to hear the thin, plaintive mewing on a branch high above. He tried to find the kitten with the flashlight, but it’s beam was weak in the moonless night. He knew at least that little “Moshe” was in this particular tree. The search for the lost kitten had led him here to a woody area across the street from our house where kids had made forts and hideouts last summer.
Our daughter, Risa, had begged two years for a cat. “We’ll get one when we move back to Tennessee,” we replied, hoping she would forget or change her mind. She didn’t. Soon after moving, “Crystal Diamond” was added to our family. Naturally, we assumed it was a she. And who can tell on a little kitten anyway? So it remained a she until evidence to the contrary was discovered by the vet when we went in for routine shots. Risa then added the masculine “Moshe” in front of the devastatingly beautiful “Crystal Diamond”.
So Moshe Crystal Diamond was lost that bitter night and daddy faithfully braved the cold to save his little girl’s cat.
“How the hell am I going to get that cat down?” Rick thought to himself as he pondered the possibilities. Having been a pitcher in a past life in college, maybe throwing something near it would scare it down? He lobbed a couple of sticks in the general direction. No, that wasn’t going to work.
The tree wasn’t too wide, but was really tall. Could it be swayed and that would knock the cat down? “I’ll give it a try,” he said and gave it a push.
He needn’t have pushed very hard.
A faint, but frantic “meowwwww!” rang through the night as the entire 30 foot thoroughly rotted tree crashed to the ground. Then……..silence.
“I’ve killed the cat,” was all that Rick could think. He searched the ground with the flashlight. Finally, he saw a little furry form. Then, it looked up at him and mewed. Not only had he survived, but he was quite alright. One life down, eight more to go.