A frightened feline that was lodged in a tall tree for a week, was finally hosed to
safety with a high-pressure fire hose. Locals held an outstretched sheet and made the catch as the cat, soaked and hungry but unharmed, was hosed out of the tree by fire fighters last week in Yonkers, New
York, USA.
'Everyone was cheering,' said artist and animal rescuer Greg Speirs,
who was among about 50 people assembled beneath the willow tree. The cat had previously ignored people who banged cans of cat food and climbed ladders that proved to be just out of reach. It took two shots
with the hose to do the trick. 'As soon as the cat landed it jumped out and ran into the woods,' Speirs reported to the New York Daily News. 'Some kids helped us bring the cat back, and a man said he would
adopt the cat right on the spot,' Speirs added. 'You can't come up with a nicer ending than that.
The Daily Mail reports a true story about a cat who has made itself a home in a pigeon's nest up a cherry tree in Reepham, Norfolk, England. The tortoiseshell cat, pictured, has been there for a week or so.
Miss Wendy
Hobbs, in whose garden the cat is living, feeds the animal regularly when it comes down to terra firma. After it's meal it climbs back into the tree. Previously the cat had been seen travelling on the milkman's
float.
Miss Hobbs, an animal lover, is keen to return the moggy to its rightful owners.
Ornithologists say they have never seen the phenomenon of a cat nest before. There are unconfirmed reports that
'twitchers' have detoured from their bird watching vigils on the nearby Norfolk Broads to observe Mrs Hobbs cat's nest.
This is a true story about a cat who baffling his owner by wandering off at night before expecting to be collected by car every morning at exactly the same time and place.
Sgt Podge, a Norwegian Forest Cat, disappears from his
owner's home in Talbot Woods, Bournemouth, every night. The next morning, the 12-year-old cat can always be found in exactly the same place, sat on a pavement about one and a half miles (2.4km) away.
His owner, Liz Bullard, takes
her son to school before collecting Sgt Podge. She said a routine has now become established, where each morning she takes her son to school before driving to collect Sgt Podge from the pavement between 0800
and 0815 GMT. It is thought Sgt Podge walks across Meyrick Park Golf Course every night to reach his destination. Ms Bullard said, 'If it's raining he may be in the bush but he comes running if I clap my
hands.'
All she has to do is open the car passenger door from the inside for Sgt Podge to jump in.
Back at home, Sgt Podge has breakfast before going to sleep by a warm radiator.
I cannot put my finger on it, but a true story has an indefinable ingredient that
made up stories lack. Here is a case in point.
Several years ago when I was returning home from work I encountered a cat tottering down the road.
It was dark but in the car headlights I could
see that it was in a bad way. It was very emaciated and its fur was sticking up just like a lavatory brush. On wary examination I discovered that it had hardly a tooth in its head and that walking in a straight
line was definitely a no-no.
I tentatively put it in the car and drove to the local vet, refusing to pay on the grounds that it was a stray. They sent me to the nearest place [approximately six miles
away] as I recall, where it could be treated by the RSPCA [Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals]. I arrived with my teenage son clutching the cat (which incidentally was evidently at death's
door, being strangely reserved and placid), in a towel.
I was informed that the cat was dehydrated; its kidneys were failing and due to having no teeth it was unable to eat. We left it there and returned
home.
A phone call later that evening informed me that the cat needed to be '
put down'
and I had to give consent. This I did reluctantly for the sake of the animal.
Later that same evening a
neighbour who lived a small distance away knocked on my door and asked if I had seen his wife's
cat. My son immediately disappeared into his bedroom leaving me to face the music. I invited the neighbour to use
my phone to inquire of the RSPCA about the said 'stray'
cat while I urgently pleaded my case regarding its condition.
'Where is my cat?'
he demanded over the phone. I looked at him, smiling weakly.
He turned to me, his face grave.
'It's
in the freezer.'
With my son in a state of complete hysteria in the adjoining room the neighbour left my house determined to retrieve his wife's
cat.
Much later I learned that the cat was twenty one years old and that the owners did not 'like'
to have it 'put down'
. Personally, I think I did them a favour.
The Sun newspaper reports the story of a cat named Aslan who fell asleep under a car bonnet in the East Anglian town of Ipswich in the UK. The car's
owner and driver, a Mr Rob Hillier, then drove the car
some 260 miles to visit his relatives in Maesteg, Mid Glamorgan, Wales. The next day Aslan's
cries [surely 'miaows'
says Will] were heard and he was found unhurt and returned home. I imagine he travelled
more comfortably this time.
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