Andy is my grandson. When he was about 8 or 9 he had this pretty orange kitten named Sunkist. One day he and his kitty were out playing in the yard when Sunkist, frisky as kittens are, went flying across the yard and straight up the trunk of a very tall tree.

When he got as high as his momentum would take him, he came to his senses. There he was, way, way up in a tree and suddenly too frightened to come down.

Everyone said that eventually he would climb down on his own but three days later Sunkist was still high in the tree emitting a constant piteous meow. Andy was beside himself and spent nearly every waking moment beneath the tree looking up and calling to poor Sunkist.

On that third day Andy called the Police and Fire Departments, but they told him they no longer rescued cats. One person callously told him the cat would come down because nobody had yet found cat bones in a tree.

So what did Andy do next? He called me, Gram, of course.

In his eyes I was Gram, Doer of the Impossible, Accomplisher of the Miraculous.

I drove over to his house and as soon as I got there, he looked up at me with big sad eyes and said ever so trustingly, "Gram, you have to DO something."

So I went off to scope out the situation and sure enough, way, way high in the tree sat Sunkist meowing weakly from his tall prison.

I went into the house and thought and thought, wondering who I could find that could get his beloved kitty down. Finally I asked myself the right question, "Who climbs trees?"

Well, tree surgeons, of course! I opened the phone book and turned to Tree Surgeons in the yellow pages and started calling down the list.

I wasn't too successful at first. Nobody was interested in rescuing a cat in a tree, but finally I reached a sympathetic lady.

With worried Andy next to me, I filled her in on our situation. I told her in great detail about my very sad grandson who had been sitting vigil under the tree for three days now and his tiny, scared kitten trapped at the top of the tree.

I said I couldn't bear to hear Sunkist's pitiful little mews and that my grandson was depending on me to reunite him with his kitten. I told her I'd gladly pay for someone to rescue this kitty.

She agreed to check with the men when they came back to the office and said she'd call me if one of them would do it.

A little while later she called back with the news that a rescuer was on his way!

Back to the tree went Andy, me and a whole tribe of neighborhood kids. The tree climber pulled up to the house, but he didn't come alone -- he brought his wife and children so they could watch Daddy rescue the cat.

In front of the awed neighborhood kids and the tree climber's family, the brave man clipped big tree climbing spikes to his boots, clumped over to the tree, studied it for a moment and then and up, up, up he went.

Just a few minutes later down he came with scared little Sunkist clinging to him. When he reached the bottom, he handed Sunkist to a very relieved Andy. Andy rewarded the tree climbing hero with a huge smile and everyone cheered.

I took out my wallet and paid the tree climber $35 without a second's hesitation. The look of gratitude and love Andy gave me was worth every penny!

Copyright © Ruth Harding
August 5, 2003