So, yesterday we were hangin' outside, Miss Monkey attempting practicing her two wheel skills a bit more. We overheard neighbors talking about a kitten up a tree. Immediately, "what kitten? where?" Turns out Darth Kittius was up a tree---almost 30 feet up a tree. A tree that both The Man and I walked under several times in our attempt to locate him.
Though the fire department said, "we don't do that anymore" when I called (which I totally understand, I grew up where cats/kittens come down on their own), a small contingent crew showed up anyway.
And I'm really really glad they did, imagine having to explain to her much much later in life why the Firemen wouldn't help, and what really happened with her kitten who mightn't have had sense enough (at 7 months) to come down...that'd be some dark story to work out in therapy.
A hero is someone who helps us to avoid disaster and heartbreak.
Huzzah! West Metro Fire Rescue! Huzzah!
e.t.a: according to neighbor-lady, Darth Kittius was playfully pouncing on doggie snouts as they sniffed those 'special' spots....guess he pounced the wrong pup, no wonder he skittered that far up a tree!
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