A couple of months ago a stray kitten wandered into our house and decided to live with us.
He is a jolly little fellow and far too pretty to be a boy.
My fiancee - don't you think 'partner' is a dreadful description of a person? If I am asked if I have a partner, I always reply, "No, the Lone Ranger has a partner, I have a lover." - takes Henri (le chat) for a walk in the wood most mornings and dotes on him as if he were a child.
Henri has stayed out all night on a couple of occasions which is not ideal for a 4/5-month-old but what can you do?
Anyway....a couple of nights ago Henri had not returned by 23.00 so Rach went to look for him in the wood. After an hour or so she found him up a tree. However, he was 40' up a 70' oak tree.
Long story shortened - at 02.00 he was carried down the tree on a 15-metre ladder, scratching and biting, by one of 5 firemen who were in attendance and all this by the light of the moon and fantastic fire department torches and lights.
The firefighters were superb and immediately christened the guy who brought down Henri, 'The Cat Whisperer'. The End.