The Most Recent Crisis

It wasn’t the first time I have found myself lying on a road or in a gutter, but it was the most recent. It was the other night, in fact. And it wasn’t what you’re thinking. If what you were thinking is your correspondent imbibed too greedily from coloured liquid that comes out of a box and then got into all manner of hilarious scrapes, narrowly avoiding a short but dramatic stay in hospital. No, nothing like that. Not this time, anyway.

This time it was on a rather different project that I found myself in contact with the bitumen, watching headlights become brighter and distorted in their flooding blindness as cars approached and I rolled off the road or stood up or otherwise took evasive action. I didn’t want motorists to think I was having a medical episode or needed assistance, or anything like that.

But I did need assistance. And the only one who could render it refused to play ball.

My companion was in the storm water drain, emitting a plaintive meow occasionally as he showed himself, before going quiet and disappearing for a few agonising seconds as I wondered what the hell was going on. And then he appeared, looked up at me through the grates – grates which had caused stripey stains of dusts on my pants when I lay across them, with one arm down the hole clutching hopelessly for a handful of feline – meowing softly, pathetically, and briefly, then retreating back into the darkness and beginning the cycle again.

It was night on the street, out the front of our place street lights were on but the gloom had well and truly descended. On road level it was darker still. And in the drain visibility was zero, except at the point where Mr. Mu had entered the underground cave – if he stood at the opening I could just see his outline and his white paws and hear his helpless call to me.

I stood up, and moved towards the house, away from the road, with the intention of finding a torch or some other source of light inside. This would be useful for the rescue, I hoped. As I reached the doormat, a persistent jiggling could be heard from the direction of the road. It was the bell of Mu’s smart new collar, ringing persistently, insistently as he negotiated his way out of the drain with ease and trotted down the front path, ready to be picked up and ferried into the house in a human embrace.

He wasn’t trapped in the drain. He’s a cat.

Published in: on July 14, 2011 at 7:56 pm  Leave a Comment  

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