Here's the latest event in the saga: yesterday our adorable dumb-ass cat got stuck up a tree. How cliche can you get?
We were having a picnic dinner outside when it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Milo around for a while. I mentioned this to Avery and we had a little chuckle imagining what kind of trouble he had gotten into. Then, not five minutes later, I spotted a furry blob in our birch tree about 25 feet off the ground. It was Milo, clearly freaked out, panting and howling. Avery left his dinner to scale the tree and try to get Milo down, but Milo was having none of that-- he clung to the branch with all four paws AND his tail! It was really windy, the sun was going down, and Avery was starting to get nervous being so high in the tree. Milo wouldn't budge. Crap.
Our first plan was to lower the cat down in a basket, but that idea died pretty quickly when Milo refused to get into the basket. Luckily, we are geniuses. Avery climbed down and found a nice long plank in the garage left over from building our planter boxes, and with some (minimal) help from me managed to hoist the plank all the way back up to our terrified kitty. Both of my boys were happily reunited with the ground, and now I'm "that" person: the lady who freaks out when her cat gets stuck up a tree.