Trust Fall

Mishka has been limping for a few weeks now, so we took her to the vet last Saturday. She wasn't any more successful at figuring out what was wrong than we were. Mishka just looks at us blankly as we squeeze her muscles, flex and extend her joints and examine her paws. Nothing. If only she knew English.

Since her limp worsens after exercise, Dr. Lewis suggested we place her on strict rest and try a course of anti-inflammatory medications. Try explaining that to Mishka. The moment she slips outside, she scales the canyon like a little mountain goat, chasing lizards, the odd squirrel and sometimes something bigger.

This morning I was studying when I noticed Mishka's posture change. She was pointing, like a hunting dog, to something outside. My desire to please her overcame my better judgement, so I opened the door. Mishka bolted out at full velocity. We began knocking loudly on the windows, which usually brings her back, but not this time. She returned on the other side of the house, having encircled it. A Siamese cat scurried up the eucalyptus tree. That was the first time we saw her target.

Geoff panicked. "We're going to have to call the fire department or the police or something," he exclaimed, very seriously.

"Really?" I asked. I thought to myself that he had read too many Curious George books as a child. "It'll find its way down."

I wandered off to get the camera. When I returned, Geoff was standing at the base of the tree, arms outstretched, beckoning the kitty to join him in a Trust Fall. He was patient, but the kitty was distrustful. The Siamese peered down a couple of times to consider its options, raising Geoff's hopes, but then he thought better of it. When the kitty nestled into the crook of the branches to enjoy a little shut-eye, Geoff finally gave up.

Fifteen minutes later, after several half-hearted attempts to take the plunge, the Siamese cat dug its claws into the tree and scrambled down, half scaling and half free fall, landing on its feet. Geoff remarked that it served the kitty right for eating half of Juan Pablo (the cousin of Miguel, our front yard lizard, pictured below). But that's a story for another day.