A Near Cat-Astrophe

My department was faced with a rather challenging dilemma a few years ago.  This one involved Ferb, half of the domesticated feline duo of Phineas and Ferb belonging to the Smiths (Name changed to protect the innocent).   Ferb was missing for two days until he was discovered “up a tree” in front of a house a block away from home.  It was obvious that Ferb was not able to climb down on his own, and was frightened and unable to access food or drink.  The Smiths called 911, and the Communications Center dispatched for an Officer in Charge to contact them directly.  Our engine (I was in the “thinking seat”) was just clearing a call, so we decided to head over to see if there was anything we could do. 

I spoke with Mrs. Smith, discussed the many options, and explained the low odds of successful fire department intervention (I never met a cat in a tree that liked firefighters).  Memories of a cat tumbling from the grasp of a firefighter on the tip of a ladder truck reminded me that these calls can quickly become circus-like.  That day, I counted backwards, "9, 8, 7, 6, 5, ..." as this feline bounced and tumbled through the tree limbs.  I suspect he has 2 lives left when he hit the ground, feet down by the way, and darted away, never to be seen again.  Unfortunately, I did not have my stopwatch handy or I could have calculated the distance he fell using the formula:  d = (1/2) 9.8 (m/s²) t² .  See kids, that junk you learn in physics class can be helpful later in life.  

There was significant public attention to the crisis, so the crew opted to attempt a simple lure and grab rescue, using a can of cat food as “bait”.  As we suspected, Ferb was more scared than hungry, and darted for higher ground as soon as we began to ascend the ladder.  We place the can of food on a large branch, so Ferb could eat and keep his strength up, and left…humbled and disappointed that we could not “save the day”.  And if you are wondering... Yes, it was very difficult to tell the neighbors that we have never seen a cat skeleton in a tree.  

The next day, before noon, another neighbor, Mr. Brown, called the Communications Center requesting assistance.  He was also “kind enough” to notify the newspaper and local TV station., in attempt to “draw attention to this situation and get some results!"  (Thanks, Mr. "Helper")  I reported to the tree and spoke again to the pet owners.  No other agency was willing to respond to assist, so I developed a plan and advised them that I would stop back later in the afternoon if Ferb still had not come down on his own. 

Shortly after 3:00, I returned and found Ferb still in the tree, a news cameraman, worried children, a rickety wooden ladder that someone had attempted to scale the tree with, and a general community feeling of frustration and dissatisfaction with the lack of assistance available to them.  I knew it was time to take action once again.  I gathered a crew for the engine from the fire station and headed out to put the new plan in effect.  Using a ground ladder once again, the crew fastened a Have-A-Heart trap to one of the major horizontal branches in the tree.  The thought was that the cat could make it to the trap, and could be captured, at which time we would return and lower the cat safely to the ground without the chance for injury to our personnel, helpful do-gooders, and Ferb.  Within 20 minutes, the trap was set and baited, and I provided my phone number to the owners, instructing them to call me when Ferb was in the cage. 

At 0700 the next morning, I was awoken by my phone.  Mr. Smith said Mr Brown called him to report the cat was in the trap exactly as planned.  I dressed quickly and reported to the scene with a boastful swagger to view my success.  Upon arrival, however, the cage was not sprung, and there was no cat in the cage.  Helper Brown swears he looked out his bedroom window and saw the cat in the trap!  Sadly, he was mistaken.  However, what NONE of us saw, was Ferb in the tree!  He was gone!  Thoughts of worry began to swirl again… was he injured and suffering in a new hiding place, was he dinner for a predator, or was he just up on a limb where we could not see him? 

Finally, at noon on day 4 of the fiasco, Ferb showed up at home, thin and dehydrated, but otherwise uninjured.  The fire department involvement was rewarded only by the local appreciation for the EFFORT.

This event brought about several discussions between members, fellow officers, career staff, colleagues of mine from out of the area, and I am sure MANY conversations I was not present for or invited to participate in!  While I fully support the notion of “risk little to save little”  I viewed the suffering of a beloved pet of one of our citizens more than just a “little thing” .  I view it as the type of service that our community rightfully expects from its municipal departments.  It is more than just a “cat” we saved that weekend, but  the public opinion of the entire department. We have vowed to save lives, not just human lives.  It is one of the fundamental reasons for our existence.  

I know my decisions from that weekend were being questioned by many in the aftermath.  While we may not have SAVED a cat, we did save our IMAGE, gained community respect and admiration, and may have just convinced a young lad or two to become volunteer firemen when they get older.  Would I do it again?  Absolutely!  Would YOU?