标题: Cat up on a Tree [打印本页] 作者: choi 时间: 2-23-2024 12:12 标题: Cat up on a Tree Nancy Gertner John Reinstein
Secretary of Commonwealth William F Galvin
022224 (Thursday) Jesus left in late afternoon two bags of recyclables at 16 Yarmouth Street, Boston from 20 Winchester Street, Brookline, Mass
Betsy McKay, Your Cat up a Tree? Climbers Branch out, Swing to the Rescue. Feline-specialists fill in for fire departments; 'Ralphie * * * let me help you, buddy.' Wall Street Journal, Feb 16, 2024, at page A1. https://www.wsj.com/lifestyle/ca ... e-climbers-5b0a5a3f
Note:
(a) This article is free.
(b)
(i) The subtitle "swing to the rescue" invokes the image of Tarzan (a fictional character).
(ii) swing (vi):
"3: to move in or describe a circle or arc
* * *
c: to convey oneself by grasping a fixed support <swing aboard the train>" https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/swing
(c)"It is easy for cats to get up because they have front-facing claws, says Bob Reese, a cat rescuer in Huntsville, Ala. Getting down is harder. A cat instinctively wants to descend head first, he says, “but they quickly learn that it doesn’t work.” He trained three of his cats to back down, using a harness and leash. Once a cat’s tail end points downward, says Reese, “gravity takes over and they shimmy backwards down the tree.”
(i) "front-facing claws"
"So why do cats get stuck in trees? If they can climb up, why can't they climb down?
"Actually, they can climb down, but the problem is that many cats just don't know how. To climb down, they must go down backwards, that is, butt-first. Some cats know how to do that, but for others, it is simply not instinctive. Instead, they try to go down in a more natural head-first manner, and there is no way they can adequately hold themselves up with their upward pointing claws that way. Sadly, many cats either can't figure out how to go down backward or are too afraid to do it, and they are truly stuck.
"Cat's claws curve toward the back, and that works well for climbing up the tree. They simply hook their claws in the bark of the tree and pull themselves up. But when they try to come down head-first, those claws are now pointing upward and are almost useless for holding them securely to the tree. When the cat tries it, he easily senses that he is about to fall, so he pulls back. He doesn't know what else to do, so he simply stays where he is. * * *
"You may have seen a squirrel or raccoon going down a tree head-first and assumed that cats can do the same, but squirrels and raccoons have a special advantage that cats do not have. Their hind feet have a[n ankle] joint that allows them to rotate their feet backwards so that they can point their claws downward regardless of the orientation of their body. The uncommon margay and clouded leopard are the only members of the cat family that have a similar joint in their hind feet. All other cats do not, so their hind feet always point to their front. In order to climb down, they must do so backward.
https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/margay
(pronunciation; etymology)
(B) fun fact: Before Westerners landed in Australia, there had been no squirrel there.
(C) A Squirrel Guide to Success. PBS, premier on Nov 14, 2018 https://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/ ... uccess-about/16641/
("There are almost 300 species of squirrels that can glide through the air, outwit rattlesnakes and survive the coldest temperatures of any mammals. * * * An unusually ankle joint allows their feet to rotatealmost 180 degrees")
Look at still photo of a squirrel walking, whose hind legs look similar to cats or dogs.
(ii) Search YouTube.com with the term (cat "climb down") and you see all cats climb down backwards.
(iii) Then how does a squirrel climb down a tree head first? They hold two advantages that cats do not have.
Certainly squirrels are much more agile than cats in climbing up or down trees or walls. Compared with cats, squirrels have an additional advantage: "long, incredibly sharp claws, designed to dig into the thickest tree bark." from the Web
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Ralphie had gotten himself into a hairy spot, out on a limb. His family was desperate to reach him, but couldn’t.
Why not? Ralphie is a cat. The gray shorthair in Richfield, Ohio had discovered that climbing up a tree was easy, yet now he was unable to get down.
His family spent days chasing their tails, looking for help. Finally, they found Duane Hook, a tree climber who specializes in the high-tech fixing of feline misadventure.
Armed with ropes, harnesses, and a way with cats, Hook launched himself after Ralphie, who had clawed his way up a towering backyard maple and catwalked onto a spindly branch. Traversing expertly around limbs and leaves, Hook closed in on the fretting feline.
“It was like he was Tarzan in the tree,” recalls Connie Palmer, Ralphie’s owner, of Hook.
Finally, cats have found humans almost worthy of liberating them from perilous perches. Hook is one of many skilled tree climbers and arborists branching out into the crucial service of freeing cats from places cats aren’t meant to be.
There are enough of these experts that there is a worldwide directory. They deploy the whole kit and caboodle: honed climbing techniques, cutting-edge equipment, fluency in cat-speak and feline bribery (Churu cat treats are like “crack cocaine for cats,” Hook says). They call themselves cat rescuers—but they know better. For the most part the cat is in charge.
“Cats have this pride—they don’t want to admit they need help from this human,” says Hook, who makes cat calls through his volunteer service, “Getmeowtahere Treetop Cat Rescue.” He delivered about 50 felines back to earth last year within driving distance of his home in the Columbus, Ohio area, and can tick off many tales, including one involving a 25-pounder called “Fat Cat.”
It isn’t clear how many cats take a sudden fancy to high-rise living. There is no official cat-alog of stuck-cat events, though a search online shows it is fairly commonplace. Many fire departments rescue cats. But they are also often busy helping humans, or may not always have high-enough equipment. So they, 911 dispatchers, and veterinarians frequently send distressed relatives to experienced tree climbers.
Climbing takes skill, but winning a cat’s trust can be the trickiest part, says Tom Otto, who rescued 726 cats last year and more than 75 so far this year with fellow arborist Shaun Sears in western Washington state, through their nonprofit Canopy Cat Rescue. “We try to build rapport with the cat,” Otto says.
He used his cat-whisperer bona fides recently with Bynx, a brown and white tabby up a Douglas fir. After more than 30 minutes of climbing, Otto encountered a big-eyed kitty with a frightened look. Otto played it cool and pretended not to pay attention to her. When he finally tried to pet her, she bolted even higher. They were at 185 feet—his highest ascent ever for a cat.
“I got the sense she was just really scared and just wanted some help,” he recalls. He moved up and softly pet the tip of her tail. This time, she turned and walked toward him on a twig, her paws and legs covered in resin. Otto scooped her up, whisked her into a net, and got a quick video on his phone. (Yes—because who doesn’t want to watch a video of a cat rescue?— climbers also, thankfully, litter their social-media accounts with cute cat content.)
Canopy Cat Rescue’s other recent clients include Bowser, Thumbelina, Roxy, Yeti and Bagel, who was stuck for nearly a week in a huge cedar tree.
“When folks call, we ask, ‘Hey, is your cat friendly?’” says Sears. “Does your cat run and hide when strangers come over? They’re going to act up a tree how they act on the ground.”
In the tree, the Canopy Cat Rescue arborists interpret vocalizations and body language. A high-pitched fast meow might be, hey, open to some help here, while Sears says a low growly one could mean “a kitty that is not super excited to get handled up in the tree.”
A cat happy for assistance might have its tail up like a flag, rub its head on a branch, or “make biscuits” with its paws, he adds. A skittish kitty might swish its tail or pull its ears back.
Can one scratch out a living as a cat rescuer? Many raise money or take donations rather than charge. Otto and Sears have also been given a dozen eggs, a plaster skull and a wooden statue of a cat with its tongue out.
Only a cat knows for sure why it scoots up a tree. Many are running from predators, Otto says. It is easy for cats to get up because they have front-facing claws, says Bob Reese, a cat rescuer in Huntsville, Ala. Getting down is harder.
A cat instinctively wants to descend head first, he says, “but they quickly learn that it doesn’t work.” He trained three of his cats to back down, using a harness and leash. Once a cat’s tail end points downward, says Reese, “gravity takes over and they shimmy backwards down the tree.”
It isn’t a hard rule, but most rescuers prefer to wait until a cat has been in a tree awhile before responding. “They haven’t submitted to their situation that they need help until they’ve been up there 24 hours,” Hook says. “They still think their options are better.” Owners can find that hard to digest. “I honestly do more counseling of humans than I do rescuing of cats.”
Hook, an engineer and packaging manager at a brewery, started rescuing cats in 2010. He already was a passionate tree climber, had cats and learned other climbers were saving felines from trees. “I thought, I have these skills and I’m good with cats.”
He kept at it, motivated by the challenge.
“These cats never choose to climb the trees I would choose to climb,” he says. “It tickles the problem-solving part of my brain.”
Ralphie had been stuck in the maple tree for five days by the time Hook arrived one evening after a 10-hour workday. With Ralphie meowing pitifully, Hook launched a line.
Secured with his harness and ropes and wearing a camera, he climbed up and through the canopy and inched along the branches.
By the time he reached Ralphie’s spot, the cat had crawled out toward the end of a thin branch. “C’mon kitty, kitty, kitty,” he called, offering tuna-flavored treats. Ralphie wasn’t buying it.
Using his climbing gear and a saw, Hook bent the branch and coaxed his target onto another limb. “Ralphie, why don’t you let me help you, buddy?” he pleaded, as the cat moved away again.
“OK Ralph, I’ve chased you all over this friggin’ tree,” Hook said, after a long pursuit. He pulled the limb with Ralphie toward him, and before the scared cat could escape, snatched him up and into a sack.
“Hey guys?” he called down to Ralphie’s owners. “The cat’s in the bag!”