Wednesday, August 01, 2007

It could only of happened to Morgan

I kept telling them but they wouldn’t listen “if you want Morgan, he’s on the roof.” They were getting agitated and worried continually shouting his name but they wouldn’t pay attention.
I heard him a few hours earlier than they spotted him. I was sunbathing on the grass outside and I heard his pitiful meow. I looked everywhere for him and then as I climbed the tree the sound got nearer and there he was standing on top of our next-door-neighbours roof looking rather worried.
Me: “What you doing up there?”
Morgan: “I’m stuck”
Me: “Oh dear…”
Being me, I went indoors to the ignorant humans. They were concerned as his morning milk lay next to his tea both untouched (I had eaten his dinner), and frequently went out and shouted, however no matter how hard I tried to demonstrate Morgan’s unfortunate predicament those unintelligent humans passed my behaviour over as mere apprehension. It was late in the evening when it was announced they were going to do a sweep of the local area before bed. I went with them trying to convey that the he was under their nose (or above their heads as the case was). Shouting his name they started up the street only to be met with a feint reply from the heavens. “There he is!” it was declared triumphantly; I rolled my eyes and ran up the tree to observe Morgan’s state more closely. I couldn’t reach him I decided so I kept a watch as the situation unfolded. What happened next I can only describe as a ‘major procedure’ involving one scared cat, four humans, a carrier and a very tall ladder. Mum went up the ladder and after a failed attempt to bring Morgan down in her arms it was decided that the carrier was the only option. Morgan didn’t like that; as you know his relationship with the carrier isn’t a good one. After a struggle with 2 humans (mum and the next-door-neighbour) they finally got him down (cheered on by 2 more humans on the ground). They took him inside and I followed. Morgan sheepishly emerged from the carrier and went in the kitchen for his milk, tea and an extra bowl of milk for his troubles. I was banished from there half way through his first meal for ‘putting Morgan off his food’ (really I tried to help him eat it), so I wearily sauntered off to bed but not before I was given some treats for my part in the rescue operation. As sleep beckoned and I dozed on and off the family eventually came to bed. Last thing before I finally drifted off a comfortable, albeit exhausted Morgan curled up contently on a duvet with his paw in the hand of a sleeping Katty. I can guarantee the one thought that stuck in my head throughout his ordeal: it could of only happened to Morgan.