viola pettibone, who mothers that cat of hers
the way only viola pettibone can,
found her maltese stuck way up in the crotch of a tree
on the bank leading down to the railroad track.
she tried coaxing it out,
tried getting her boy willie to go after it, but that boy’s good for nothing,
and her customers wouldn’t climb that tree.
danged cat.
pretty near everyone with a place backing the river came out,
vexed from listening to it yowl.
guess it was scared 60 feet up in the air,
too scared to consider coming down on its own and no one
willing to go up after it.
fire department came.
they sized up the scene and
called me.
i wasn’t going up in my uniform.
pulled on a pair of overalls,
placed a ladder against the lowest part of the tree.
12 feet i covered that way.
the remaining 48 had to be shinnied up,
one inch at a time in the pouring rain.
blasted cat wouldn’t come.
not even when i reached it.
i tried sweet talking it into letting go of the bark.
put the thing on my shoulder, its claws stabbing into my back.
slowly we came down.
6 feet from the ground the cat ripped my shirt, climbed my face
and leaped
into viola’s arms.
put my uniform back on and wrote up a ticket, handing it to
harvey pettibone
next time, i said,
keep your cat to home.