And then the cat disappeared. in Et tu Brute? The ides of March must mean spring 2016!

Inspiring a pruning session.

The back door was open and the cats were exploring. For Amba that means hovering by the door, ready to leg it back in at the slightest noise or breeze. For Oreo it means discovering every nook and cranny of the garden.

After a while, R asked if I’d seen Oreo in the house but I hadn’t. We had about half an hour of searching the house, garden and neighbouring streets when Rich heard a distinct cat cry coming from our huge Leylandi. Fighting through the outer layers I was faced with a small black face, huge, circular, black eyes stared at me. “help me,” they pleaded.

Fifteen minutes passed, of Rich and I tangoing around the tree, ripping off lower branches as we went, encouraging her to come down onto lower branches as she steadily climbed higher, trying to find stable ground on which to perch.

T went onto the path behind our fence, in case Oreo took a leap of faith out of the garden and finally Rich got hold of her, she flailed and clawed but he got her down.

Ten minutes later she was back up, but this time with a sense of determination. This time she got herself down.

I’m pretty sure this was all about her garden cred - felines can’t be seen to be helped by humans!