Rocky

Friday night, I kept hearing a kitten crying every time I went into the backyard. It was dark and raining, and had no luck finding the animal.

The next morning, I found him. Hanging from a high branch in our mulberry tree like the critters in those loathsome motivational posters.

I dragged out a ladder and balanced myself on the highest rung to rescue it.

Now, I have not talked about my issues of late, but seizures, falls, and lack of balance are regular events nowadays. So, I was taking my life into my hands to help this cat.

The little monster darted out of my grasp and ran from branch to branch and then tree to tree like Tarzan until he was way up in the big pecan tree as I stood with my ass hanging in the breeze.

A few hours later, it was screaming and hanging from the same branch on the same mulberry tree. I dragged the ladder out. Again. I balanced my wobbly self on my crappy old ladder. Again. It ran from tree to tree. Again.

When I came out of the garage after putting the ladder back, he was sitting on the back steps waiting to be fed.

Dad named him Rocky, after Bullwinkle’s sidekick.

I guess we have a new cat. God help us all.