Well, it didn't ring, it bleeped or chibbled or deedled or whatever my general ringtone is. Not being crazy about any of the seven thousand that came with my "device," I picked one that was the least annoying. Oh, I could have chosen the "old rotary phone"
ringtone, but hasn't everyone recently?Not exactly startling to hear the phone, just unexpected. Christmas Eve morning had been quiet, at home and quiet. Me, fresh ground coffee beans, an Italian blend, surrendered their intense flavors to my basic drip maker, and there we were. We being me, the cats, the dogs, and the morning paper.
I hadn't even checked email yet, it was that early in the beginning of my day.
On the other end of the chibbling phone, our shelter manager. She's called, bringing news of a what could be a problem.
I hear, "Seems we have a potential incident in Swoyersville."
Great. Christmas Eve day, in my sweats, one eye half-open, the other half-closed, and we've got an "incident." Being the executive director of the SPCA of Luzerne County carries with it, among other duties, that of being notified of incidents, or any incident that falls outside the boundaries of normal everyday incidents. Of the latter, we have our share.
One of our humane police officers was about to roll to Swoyersville, our shelter manager rolled along with her. I was out the door in five minutes myself.
You'll have to look very closely at the photo above. To the far right of the photo is an ordinary utility pole of the variety still standing across our neighborhoods. This particular pole carries an energized 13,000 volt electric line. This particular pole also has a cat sitting plop on top of it, and I mean cozied up right there upon the circular upper end of the pole.
No need to strain too hard, below is a tight shot of that kitty. It's a Tom tabby. To his right and left, a scant few feet away, lines carrying enough power to mean end of the line for Tom if he makes the wrong move.
To me, he looked annoyed at the crowd gathered hoping to see him come on down alive and well. At one point, he started taking a bath, all the while never moving from his seat roughly thirty or so feet above Kossack St. I imagine he was fine with where he was, maybe enjoying the view.
Neighbors told me a squirrel had chased him half way up the pole.Then, when well-meaning neighbors tried to coax him down with food, and a big old pile of "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...", our pole sitting cat shot right to the top and hadn't budged in what was claimed a day or more.
We did what we could, which was to call the utility and see if they could push a bucket and a man up to the cat and get him down, all without anyone getting hurt. That's the key here - without anyone getting hurt. High power lines and good intentions are a very bad mix.
Yeah, of course, everyone wanted a happy ending, but could that happen given the circumstances?
At one point, an onlooker, a man, approached me in what could best be described as a state of moderate agitation.
"Why doesn't someone do something?" He wasn't quite yet to the snarly level, but working his way there steadily.
With the best assurances I had within me at the time, I said, "We're working on it, sir, we're doing all we can."
(Isn't that how we got where we got here in Luzerne County, by waiting for someone to do something? Now, someone is, that would be the FBI.)
Most important, we we're doing something, we were in contact with UGI, the power utility serving Swoyersville, trying to get them on scene. In short order, and with great effort on their part, they did indeed arrange for a bucket truck.
To a round of applause, the gentleman brings bucket to cat. At the right, you can already see Tom, as with most cats, really didn't want to bothered, never once considering anyone was saving him. Were we saving him? I don't suppose any of us really has an answer to that, other than to say all we wanted to do was get him away from those 13,000 volts.
He did that on his own, thank you.
Here he is beginning to move down the pole at the sight of the approaching bucketed good Samaritan, which he probably would have done in
time without any help.In the nanosecond I took my eye from the viewfinder, Tom flew into the pine on the right like he was hiding wings beneath his fur. He could have done that all on his own, but only when he felt like it, not on our schedule. Is that not a cat's prerogative?
And that was that.
Cat saved? I'd like to think so. If he's your cat, keep him in the house, please. Even at that, all of us at the SPCA were happy to be of whatever help we were. We thank UGI for coming to our assistance.
