Saving Frank

You know that old expression  you never see a dead cat up a tree? 
I actually heard it for the first time a few weeks ago when a friend mentioned that her neighbor's cat had to be rescued removed from a tree (hence proving the old saying wrong...)

This afternoon I heard it again.  Only this time it was Frank, my dear friend's cat, who was up the tree-- at LEAST 40 feet up.  He had been up there for two days.  We have had record low temperatures.  The wind-chill was 5 degrees... Thankfully, Frank was cold but alive and well up there on his perch.  He was just not willing to come down.

With no success after calling the power company, the fire department, the local news, the vet...,  Bri and her kids did everything to get him to come down on his own.  Yummy food, treats, yelling, throwing sticks.  He was too high for nerf darts and the tree was too big to shake or bend.

Frank wasn't coming down on his own.

In desperation Bri called our house looking for a chainsaw to cut the tree down. 

Who am I to not help a friend in need?

So we show up en-masse  ready to  help extracate Frank.

The chain saw did not cooperate, despite coaxing.  It was having performance anxiety. 
Ry tried shooting Frank in the bum with an airsoft...  no luck 
He settled for using his newly acquired knot skills to tie the pull rope to the tree (good Christmas gift Claire!)
She and E suggested psychological ways to coax him down (ah, girls)...  no luck
The little boys just ran around in circles
The big boys young men opted for the physical route-- chop it down with an axe.
 
Which they did
With great force
(picture soon-- when I can figure out how to get pictures off my phone)

Watching Frank ride that tree like the Silver Surfer was a thing of beauty.  A quick hop and a skip before touchdown and he was off.
Hopefully NOT up another tree.