My opinion of firemen has dropped dramatically

This is how exciting my life has become (insert sarcasm). Yesterday, there was a cat stuck up in a tree, and it was the highlight of our day.

The cat was at Mark's school--apparently, he'd come too close to a teacher's new ducklings, and the teacher chased him off. The cat, who was fat and gray, ran up a tree, and got himself stuck.

That's right, the poor guy got himself wedged into a Y-shaped fork in the tree.

Mark couldn't wait to tell me all about it. He said the cat meowed at the kids all afternoon, but when I got there, he was sleepy and inattentive. I hoped it was just because he was bored.

Another teacher, Ms. Ashlene, told us she'd been on hold for more than an hour and a half with the city animal control. She was worried, because they weren't answering their phone, and they closed at 5:30.

I looked up the number to the emergency line, and left it for her. Then I called my brother Smed, who's a local cop, hoping he'd have a suggestion (or maybe a ladder).

"Call the fire department," he said immediately.

"They did," I told him. "Ms. Ashlene said they wouldn't come."

"What!" Smed exclaimed. "Then you need to call the newspaper and tell them you've got a great story. Firemen who won't even save a cat stuck in a tree!"

"How is that gonna help?" I asked.

"It's gonna shame the firemen into rescuing the cat!" Smed has no love for firemen. He says it's because they're always angry when their Starbucks runs are interrupted by emergencies, but I just think he's jealous because girls love firemen.

He didn't have any other suggestions, so I hung up. Another family was standing below the cat-eating tree, staring up at Mr. Sleepy. He'd become quite the feline celebrity.

Mark had a drum lesson, so we finally had to leave. But immediately afterwards, I returned to the school. I wasn't sure what I'd do or who I'd call if the cat was still stuck, but I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing he was still up there.

But the cat was gone! I was relieved to see Ms. Ashlene had been successful in her calls--somehow, the cat had been dislodged. I sighed deeply.

I felt kind of dumb afterwards, fretting over a cat. But just as the doubt was sweeping over me, a white mini-van came charging up behind us. A little girl ran out, directly to the tree, and her mom anxiously popped out of the driver's seat.

"He's down!" I called out, and the other mom let out a huge sigh. She clasped her heart and said, "Thank God!"

The little girl clapped her hands and ran off. We started up our cars and drove off, and I was glad to know I wasn't alone in worrying about a chubby, lazy gray cat.