How Not to Spend your Evening.

I had a great day yesterday. Completely stellar, really. It was just one of those magical days where good things happen and you feel really great to be alive. This is usually how you feel right before something totally shitty happens, right? Right.

So, last night around 9pm I let Stella out. It was raining which usually means she'd just hang out on the side porch and demand to come  in five minutes later. Two seconds after I let her out I completely forgot about her until bedtime, when Kenny was all, "Um, where's Stella?" Oops. Not good.

He went out in the dark, cold rainy night to look for her while I pretended to maybe see if he needed help. Meaning, I stood at the door calling her name until it was too cold to have the door open. Hey, I was in my pajamas and it was raining.

From the back yard Kenny said he could hear her and he wandered off, following the sound of her yowls. Then he came back in with Very Serious Face. Apparently she'd gotten herself treed. Again. Usually when this happens it's in one of the smaller trees in our yard and she comes down after a bit of cajoling.

This time, according to Kenny, she was up pretty high in a tree on our next door neighbor's property. Yes, he needed help and could I come hold the ladder. Goddammit. I pulled on boots and a coat over my pajamas and grimly followed him outside. It was midnight. Outside. Raining. Cold. Not our yard. Not good so far.

Then after tromping through the underbrush of the empty lot next to our neighbor's house, I saw the tree and...oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I think I stood there with rain falling in my face as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. It was a big-ass tree, straight up and down with a comical stubby broken nub of a branch about 20-25 feet up. On that broken nub branch? My cat.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

I mean, what the hell were we going to do? She was yowling and wet and freaked out and SO FAR UP THERE. The ladder we own is 17' and it didn't even come close to where she was.

We talked to her a while and cajoled and discussed. Even if she could figure out how to get down, she'd most likely fall part of the way. The next closest branch was a good 15 feet below her. Oh my God. I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. There was literally nothing I could do to help her.

We stood there in the dark, in the cold dark rainy night trying to figure out what to do and hoping that the neighbors didn't call the police. It started to rain harder.  We went inside and I got online to see if I could find any ideas. Meanwhile, Kenny took a large piece of foam he'd been hoarding and put it under the tree, just in case.

The Internet declared the best thing to do was to leave the cat alone, as she was less likely to come out of a tree if there were people at the base yelling at her. So, we finally decided to just go to bed and if she was still up there in the morning we'd call a tree service and beg for help.

Kenny camped out on the couch so he'd hear her if she came to the door, but we were both still really freaked out and sleep was not going to be a thing, really.

20 minutes later we heard a squawk and there she was, wet to the skin and HAPPY AS HELL to be home. I have no idea how she got herself out of that tree but she was completely unharmed. Damn cat. And here:

Oh my God, right?  Do not recommend.