My friend Martha and I met for a Martha Sez lunch today. That’s what my husband calls them because when I come home, I am full of “Martha says…” tales.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned previously that we have to choose our restaurants carefully because we’re sure to laugh a lot, so we try to avoid too-quiet restaurants where snorting iced tea through our noses would be noticed and raucous laughter would be disdained. Can’t do too-noisy restaurants either because we wouldn’t be able to hear each other. Today we enjoyed two hours of trading stories with only intermittent stares from the other patrons.
Martha, who doesn’t have a catty bone in her body, told me a cat story worth sharing, this one about the time she was with a group of friends when the subject turned to cats–the four-legged felines. One of the women confided that she once had a cat which would climb a tree every time it got out of the house, then it would sit on a top branch, caterwauling because it was afraid to come back down. Finally, in desperation, the woman called the fire department for assistance and they came and rescued the cat.
Then it happened again… the cat in the tree… the call to the fire department… the ladder rescue.
The third time, the fire department dispatcher said they were sorry but they couldn’t keep answering cat calls; she was on her own.
The tree wasn’t that large, so the owners reasoned that they could toss a lasso up and snag an upper branch, then pull the tree down to a point where they’d to be able to grab the cat. They tossed the lasso successfully, pulled on the rope, and sure enough, the tree began bending…bending…bending…
… until the rope snapped.
The tree whipped back to its original upright position, but the cat went airborne and kept going, flying out of the tree top and catapulting out of sight. They searched and searched, but never found any sign of the cat.
Years later, the now catless woman was at a social gathering where the subject turned to cat ownership. One of the guests said yes, she had a cat and that it was the oddest story of how it happened to come to them. She and her husband were outside when all of a sudden, a cat missile came hurtling through the air, landing on their patio.
It took several visits to the vet to get the cat right, she told them, but now it was a very good pet.
Lasso lady wondered where the current cat owner lived, curious as to how far an airborne cat can fly, but didn’t have the nerve to ask.
I wonder if it gave up tree climbing.
Martha and I parted company at that point. Any more laughter would have had a catastrophic effect on our bladders.