One very cold day-after-Thanksgiving about three years ago, my husband went in to school to do some work on his day off. In the parking lot he found a very small, seven-week-old kitten that had been left to die. My husband brought him home to me. Sinbad had an upper respiratory infection - his eyes were clotted shut and his nose was running so badly that he had trouble breathing. I bathed Sinnie's eyes until he could open them. It was love at first sight for both of us.
Fast forward a few weeks: Sinbad decided that he was a big boy and needed to prove himself, so he promptly escaped outside and ran up the nearest large tree. Up, and up, and up! Naturally, he couldn't get down. He cried constantly while I tried for about 30 minutes to show him the right way down without having to climb up myself (which wasn't going to happen!). By this time, Sinnie had wavered way out onto the end of a limb that was drooping rather alarmingly. This would be one way down, but unfortunately, he was still about 20 feet off the ground! I was terrified! I called my husband over to help. While we stood there watching helplessly, Sinnie lost his grip and slipped. *Gasp* He clung to the branch with his front paws and cried pritiously. My husband (my hero!) simply held up his arms and told Sinbad, "Let go Junior, I'll catch you." Sinnie did, and Kurt did. Whew!
Why this story? Well, just look at this picture!
I started ironing the freezer-paper tree pieces for my owl wall hanging onto my fabric yesterday. I didn't make it very far before Sinbad was, once again, up a tree! And again, it took me about 30 minutes to get him down, but this time it was because I hated to wake him. : )