Yesterday I spent an hour and a half on the roof. Long enough so that the owls who live in the poplars next to our house started hooting. Long enough so that my ankles started tingling. Long enough so that my pants which were slightly damp from washing the windows were freezing to my legs.
I am terrified of climbing trees, ladders and Ferris wheels. I start shaking when I think I may have to go more than two feet off the ground. Last summer when we replaced some windows in our house in Granby, Mike made me climb up on the scaffold and hold them; my knees were shaking, my heart was beating FAST and I almost started crying with fear. Instead I held one window, carefully climbed back down and ignored Mike as he yelled from the safety of the inside of the house.
I let our sweet half-grown orange cat outside onto the deck yesterday. Then forgot about her as I washed the windows in our rental. I went back to our house, called for the cat, saw our dogs who looked rather suspicious and looked up. There was the cat. Stuck in a poplar tree looming about another twenty feet higher over the roof.
Plan A- call sweetly up and believe that she will jump 60 feet down into my arms.
Plan B- throw rocks at her and hope that I will actually hit her propelling her into a free fall down into my arms.
Plan C-Ignore her and let her figure out how to get down.
Plan D-Get a ladder and climb on the roof and get her down.
Plans A,B and C did not work.
Plan D unfolded into a typical Gina fashion.
I asked Mike where the ladder was and told him the cat was stuck in the tree. This was a hint to my husband that the cat was stuck in a tree and he needed to go get the ladder, climb onto the roof and get the cat down.
Did not happen. He was watching the Weather Channel...can't he just look outside and see what the weather is like?
I got the ladder. I figured out what the rope hanging on the ladder does (it moves the ladder up and down - really quite ingenious.)
I put the ladder up against the roof.
I climbed up the roof.
I reached up into the tree and grabbed the cat (after prodding her gently with a limb I violently yanked from the tree to move her down...basically I stuck her with the stick and she fell down another three feet and got stuck closer to me) stuck her inside my jacket and, feeling quite satisfied that I hadn't vomited on the roof with fear, walked over the ladder.. which was no longer there.
The same two dogs who had chased the cat up the tree had knocked the ladder over.
They were staring up at me, wagging their tails.
Plan A-start yelling for Mike.
I periodically yelled for Mike for the next hour and a half.
The sun began setting.
The owls began hooting.
The temperature began dropping.
The dogs were still staring up at me. Bodie, who is a Collie, is NOT, I repeat, NOT like Lassie. I said,"Bodie, go get Mike."
"Bodie, go onto the deck and scratch the door until Mike comes."
"Bodie, go bark frantically and tell Mike there is Danger!"
"Bodie, go swim across the river, bark with intelligence and get Timmy's father to come rescue me."
I thought about stomping across the roof, but we're in the midst of replacing the roof so I was afraid something might cave in and I'd land in the middle of Ian's room.
So instead I waited and tried to enjoy the sunset and admired the views from our roof and then it got dark.
Still no Mike.
Did he have a heart-attack?
Did he have a stroke?
Did he knew I was on the roof and he was glad for an hour and a half of peace?
Finally he wandered outside, saw the ladder on the ground, came around the front of the house, looked up and said, "What are you doing up there"
I was frozen and I hated him so I did not answer.
Finally I yelled back, "I was getting the cat."
And this was what he said to me, "Why didn't you call me on your cell?" (I'm still on the roof, it's dark, the ladder is still on the ground and THIS is what he asks.)
He propped the ladder up, held it steady while I climbed down and then I, with frozen lips replied, "Do you really think that IF I had my phone I would NOT have called you?"
"Well, you really should carry your phone all the time."
That's true. I really should carry my phone all the time. That way I could immediately call a divorce lawyer.
Moral of the Story - you cannot count on dogs or men.
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