Flanders' Big Adventure II

So The Big Man is up a tree following a rough encounter with some dogs and he ain't coming down, so I have to come up and get him. After rooting around for work gloves -- I know how claws-out grabby even the sweetest cat can get when more than five feet from the ground -- and a step ladder, he and I swing in the bluster of the day while I try to find a level spot for the ladder that will get me high enough to safely grab him and come down. That is one surprisingly dense tree.

Have I mentioned that the day was sunny but cold and we had been periodically pounded with hail and rain all day? I haven't? Oh. The day was sunny but cold and we had been periodically pounded with hail and rain all day. Ticktickticktick!

The second time the ladder was blown sideways in the wind, by sheer dumb luck I set it in the perfect spot to climb up a foot higher than where Flan was, grab 'im and ease down the ladder without a scratch. Huzzah.

[I must admit, I laughed so hard at seeing how middle-aged cats, like people, look extra-flabby/puffy in the face when looking down at a viewer that his rescue probably could have been completed in much less time. I am not an entirely good man. If Flan had received an Injury, me laughing at him every time he looked down at me would have been the Insult. Then again, I was already very sick and shaky, so that furball gets no apologies from me.]