That Darn Cat

Erin & I enjoy sleeping in. Since we have to be at school before 7 in the morning during the week, we enjoy Saturdays of sleeping till 10 or 11. (I can't believe I consider that sleeping in! In college, that was getting up early! Ugh, I'm getting old.) The church we go to starts at 11, so Sundays we can sleep in as well. Last night however, we stayed up way too late, so we decided to sleep in a little more this morning. Our plan was, of course, thwarted by a little black beast who seems hell-bent on letting his curiosity send him to that great big litter box in the sky. Around 9 this morning Erin woke me up because she heard odd noises.

"Travis, what's the cat doing?"

"It sounds like he's in the bathroom playing with the drain or something."

Then I went back to sleep for about 5 minutes. This time the sound was different. There was some rustling and some sort of high pitch squeaking.

"Travis, did Beans find a mouse? Can you go and look? I really don't want him dragging a half-chewed mouse onto our bed."

We both had visions of the de-tailed, traumatized geckos that Beans has triumphantly brought to us, so I went to the bathroom to see what he was doing.

He wasn't in the bathroom.

"It sounds like he's in the hall."

Sure enough, he was. He hadn't caught a mouse. The high-pitched squeaking sound was the sound of extended claws scraping on glass as he attempted to climb the curtains on the window on our landing. I grabbed him to get him down. Unfortunately, he was up high enough that I wasn't able to reach to dislodge his front claws from our somewhat expensive custom made drapes. I called for taller backup, but it was no luck. Beans was quickly scrambling further out of reach, so while Erin tried, unfortunately, in vain, to keep him where he was, I ran for a chair.

Too little too late. Before I could get a good grip, he had shimmied to the top of the curtains and was peering down at us from on high. I've included a picture of the window, with me looking out, so you have a reference of just how high our dumb cat was. Fearful that he was going to jump and probably break his furry little paws, I ran to get our ladder.

The ladder, a 6 foot tall, wobbly, aluminum piece of fine craftsmanship had a broken brace, so it was incredibly unstable. I climbed up to the third step from the top (the furthest any reasonable person can go without genuine fear of breaking his/her neck) but was still about a foot and a half too short.

Erin ran to get a broom and a blanket. The broom to use as bait to get the cat down, (Beans hates the broom and likes to attack it.) the blanket to catch him to prevent me from being slashed to ribbons by his razor-sharp pointy ends.

No luck. He was now thoroughly freaked out and had no intention to come down. I attempted to use the broom handle to pry him from his ledge, but he wasn't budging. It was time to take drastic measures.

With Erin doing her best to keep the legs of the ladder from collapsing from underneath me and sending me ass over teakettle down a flight or two of stairs, I climbed to the next rung on the ladder. I was now able to reach cat's legs.

With the blanket as insulation from claws, I pried kitty from his lofty perch and we slowly returned him to terra firma.

For his adventures in the sky, Beans earned himself a trip to the sink where his head was soaked. He spent some time sulking under the coffee table and eventually returned upstairs to the bedroom where Erin & I were attempting to rest so he could purr loudly and snuggle in an attempt to apologize.

So that was our morning. Beans was pretty spooked by the whole ordeal, so we're hoping he won't be making the trip again any time in the future. Our curtains have some nice puncture marks, but here's hoping that there won't be any more added to the curtain.