Cat Rescue Guy (2025)

27/09/2025

When people call me to rescue their cat, one of the questions I always ask is how the cat reacts to strangers on a normal day at home. Does the cat go up to them and greet them happily, sit still and watch, or run and hide? Often I will get an unclear or qualified answer, but Evan didn't need to think about it or qualify his answer: Tootsie Roll runs from everyone. It's guaranteed.

I have a cat like that. My cat not only runs from strangers, he will run from me if he sees me at an unexpected time or place. He has never been stuck in a tree, but if he were stuck and saw me coming up to rescue him, he would probably climb higher or jump out of the tree. In moments of stress like that, he would react to me just like he would with a stranger.

Of course, that is not the answer I want to hear about a cat I am about to rescue, but it is good to know what to expect from the cat so I can know how best to approach it. In this case, I know to expect Tootsie Roll to feel uncomfortable with me in the tree with him and to do whatever he can to keep a safe distance between us. I know to be extra gentle and patient with him and not to expect any miracles.

Tootsie Roll is a three-year-old kitty in Walker, Louisiana, and he had been stuck in the tree for one night after getting chased by some loose dogs. Evan and his daughter, Kayleigh, were especially worried about him and anxious to get him down as soon as possible. Tootsie Roll was about 30 feet high in a tree in his backyard, and his loud and frequent cries make it clear that he was very distressed. I was glad to see that he was on one of the lowest limbs and that the limb was pretty short, because a short limb makes it easier for me to reach him if he walks out the limb to get away from me.

I climbed up to him slowly with frequent stops filled with sweet talk. I let him know that I saw him, but mostly I looked away and appeared uninterested in him. When I looked at him, I gave him several slow blinks in case that had a positive effect. I climbed closer to him only when he appeared tolerant and was looking at me, because I didn't want to appear like a predator who would try to surprise him by sneaking close only when his head was turned away. As I began to get close, Tootsie's loud cry morphed into a soft, intense, and sustained tone that told me he was getting especially nervous because I was getting too close. I backed off but continued to give him some slow blinks and sweet talk. By the time I was near him, his repeated, loud, distressed cry became softer, relaxed, and less frequent, but he was still far from comfortable with me. I was delighted that he was still in the same place when he could have easily climbed higher or gone out his limb. I reached my hand out low to him for a sniff, and he leaned his head down to sniff it. With that introduction done, I let my hand brush up against his back leg very gently and then pulled away. He reacted by pulling his leg away and standing up, but that touch seemed to flip a switch for him. He faced me and appeared more comfortable now. I touched his back and the top of his head, and he relaxed even more. Tootsie Roll was no longer afraid of this stranger. We were friends.

Tootsie Roll was in the habit of going into his carrier every day, so I brought my carrier with me fully expecting him to happily walk inside. When I held the carrier up to him, however, he didn't know what to do with it. He looked above it, below it, and to the side, but he would not walk inside. At one point, he reached a paw out to my knee, so I began to think the unthinkable: would he actually step on my lap? I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap, and that sweet boy actually stepped on my lap and plopped down. The miracle I knew not to expect had actually occurred. I was thrilled about that, but he plopped his large body over the part of the bag that I needed to pull up around him. I could not secure him inside the bag until I pulled that part of the bag out from under him, and as I did so, it disturbed him enough that he decided it might be best to just step back on the limb. I botched that opportunity, but I wasn't worried because I was sure that I would get another chance. After getting the bag spread out again properly, I looked up and Tootsie was gone. He had stepped on another limb on the opposite side of the tree.

Now I was worried that he might have had a change of heart and decided to get away from me, but when I pulled myself around the tree, he appeared just fine and ready to step on my lap again. When he stepped on my lap this time, I decided that I would just let him ride all the way down to the ground on my lap. I held him on my lap with one hand on the top of his neck and the cat bag prepared on that arm in case he became too fidgety and needed to be secured. The descent path was straight down and free of obstacles, so I descended very slowly and smoothly, and Tootsie handled it very well. About halfway down, he started to reach out to the trunk as if he wanted to get back on the tree again, but I pulled him back and he stayed still until we were three feet off the ground. At that point, he wanted to jump down, and I let him. He was already in his own familiar territory, so he casually walked back toward the house ready to resume his routine.

It is such a great feeling to gain the trust of a scared cat. I am happy enough when the cat just stops fearing me and does not run away, but to have him step on my lap is a golden level of trust. That is a beautiful gift, and it is one that I highly value. Without that trust, the rescue would have been much longer, more strenuous, stressful, unpleasant, and risky, so thank you, Tootsie. You made the rescue much easier for us both.

21/09/2025

When Cortney called me on the phone to see if I could rescue his cat, I could hear the cat in the background crying desperately. I could tell from the cat's cry that this was going to be an easy rescue. The volume, pitch, melodic shape, intensity, and repetition rate all sounded like a young, desperate kitty who would be happy to see anyone up there in the tree with her. She sounded like a juvenile, and Cortney confirmed that she is six months old. Of course, I didn't yet know anything about the tree, but I went out there pretty confident that at least the cat would be easy.

The cat, named Hogwarts by the young daughter, was stuck about 30 feet high in a tree in the woods next to their home in Denham Springs, Louisiana. She had been there only a few hours, but she was alerting the whole neighborhood with her crying, and the family was very anxious to get her down as soon as possible. By the time I arrived, Cortney had already cut a trail through the dense undergrowth to the tree, and I was very grateful for that.

When I climbed up to Hogwarts, the cute brown tabby girl met all my expectations. She was desperate for me to get up there and rescue her. She leaned down toward me, rubbed her face against the tree, and greeted me happily. I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap, and she wasted no time in stepping on my lap. She was so excited to be rescued that she couldn't sit still. While I petted her, she rubbed her face on my lap and belly with the knowledge that I would take her safely home. I pulled the sides of the bag up around her, and she continued to squirm inside the bag. I reassured her, took her down, and gave her to Cortney who took her back home where she resumed playing with her toys. So everyone is happy, the neighborhood is quiet again, and I just love rescuing sweet kitties like this.

18/09/2025

Charlene was immensely relieved and proud. After spending the past two years trying in vain to trap a feral cat who had already had two litters of kittens and was now pregnant with a third, and after spending all that time trying to earn the cat's trust enough to let her pet her while she ate, Charlene finally had a chance to grab the cat by the scruff and stuff her inside a carrier for a trip to the veterinarian. Hooray! Success at last! She had already trapped, spayed, neutered, and returned all the other cats in the colony in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, but this one mama cat was the last holdout because she was far too wary to go into a trap or get too close to Charlene. But Charlene had her now, so off to the clinic they went.

Charlene is one of several saintly people I have met over the past several years who voluntarily manage multiple colonies of feral cats in various locations. They trap the cats to have them all spayed, neutered, and vaccinated, return them to their territory, and feed them daily. They work at odd hours during good weather and bad, and they travel alone to locations where they often feel unsafe. They get to know each and every cat and come to love each one like family. They never have a day off, and they do it all quietly without anyone's knowledge, recognition, or appreciation. They are essentially performing what should be a larger city-parish service that benefits the entire community, and they do it all at their own expense with the help of some low-cost spay-neuter programs. Someday, I would love to see the community honor these people in a meaningful way for their selfless and valuable service.

When Charlene arrived at the clinic, she picked up the large cat carrier by the top handle and proceeded to take it inside, but just as she reached for the door, the door to the carrier popped loose, and the cat burst out of the carrier and climbed up a nearby Crape Myrtle tree. Charlene was heartsick, and she worried that the cat would run away and be forever lost. She had no way to regain control over the cat, so she asked the clinic staff for help. They brought out a net and ladder but when they tried to capture the cat, she fell out of the tree and ran across the parking lot to a large Oak tree and climbed it. She settled on a spot about 30 feet high directly over the entrance to the clinic by a fast four-lane highway. The cat was safe for now, and Charlene knew where she was, but she had no way to get her. The clinic staff referred her to me.

I was unavailable that morning and could not get there right away, but when Charlene asked me for advice, I told her that if I were in her shoes, I would not let the cat out of my sight. If the cat came down or fell down while she was not looking, she would likely never see it again. Charlene did exactly that, and was still watching her when I arrived two hours later.

This was the most dreadful rescue scenario I have ever had: a mostly-feral pregnant cat in prey mode, displaced far from home, in a Live Oak tree where she has plenty of room to move away from me, next to a very loud and fast highway, and the cat is directly over the center of the paved clinic entrance from the highway. Since the cat is displaced, she needs to be secured in some way. Normally, with scared or feral cats, setting a trap in the tree is the best solution, but I have had three displaced-cat cases just like this where trapping failed because the cat somehow got out of the tree during the night without ever touching the trap and was never seen again. I have learned that leaving traps overnight doesn't work in this situation, and this cat in particular has already proven that she will not go in one. The only other method I had to secure this cat was the catch-pole, and I don't like to use it, especially on feral cats who are sure to struggle and fight it. It is very difficult, sometimes impossible, to transfer a struggling cat from the catch-pole into a net, and it's not a pretty sight, nor is it fun. I was dreading doing that, but it was my only option, so I prepared the catch-pole and net on the ground to pull up to me once I was in position in the tree. I was not feeling optimistic, and I warned Charlene about all the possible outcomes while I was privately expecting the worst.

I didn't think the cat would allow me to get close enough to reach her even with the fully-extended catch-pole, but I had to try. I approached her as gently as I could, talked sweetly, didn't stare at her, gave her a bunch of slow blinks, and I even offered her some food. I knew she would not respond to the food, but I wanted her to view me in a friendly light, and, besides, sometimes a miracle happens. Indeed, the miracle did not happen, but she did not go farther out the limb as I had expected. She continued to stay in the same area, but she was also clearly thinking about going farther away. I was surprised to see that she was allowing me to get much closer than I expected. I was only a few feet away and in easy range to use the catch-pole, but there were so many limbs between us and around us that I would not be able to manipulate a long pole. Even if I could snare her, she would grab every limb in the vicinity, and it would be even more difficult than usual to transfer her to a net. I didn't know what to do. She was just over an arm's length away, and I fantasized about getting her to come closer for the food and bagging her. That probably would not have gone well, but a guy can dream, can't he.

Thankfully, Jeanie, from the clinic, came out and joined Charlene on the ground to hold a net under the cat in case she fell. They had to stand in the middle of the clinic entrance where cars on the fast highway could turn quite quickly with little warning, so I was concerned about them but also very happy to have them there since a fall was a strong possibility. To catch a falling cat, you can use a blanket or tarp, but cats are very quick to exit it right after the landing, so it's extremely difficult to secure the cat inside. That may be fine for outdoor cats in their own territory but not for a displaced cat who needs to be secured. That is why I told them to use my netting instead. When a cat lands in a net, he can't get solid footing to escape quickly, so it is much easier for the net holders to wrap the cat inside. I am so glad they were there and staying under the cat, because, as I was trying to figure out what to do with this cat, the cat started to move and lose her footing. Her back end slipped off the limb, but she was barely holding on with her claws. I instinctively reached out to see if I could lift her rear end back up on the limb, but she was just out of my reach. At the same time, I was also thinking that it would be best if she fell. I guess her pregnant belly was a bit too much weight to hold, because as soon as I thought about it, she lost her grip and fell. She passed through a few thin limbs and then landed in the center of the net. Jeanie and Charlene were ready, and they wrapped her up inside the net securely and took her inside the clinic. It was an amazing and beautiful sight to see, and I am so sorry my camera was not on at the time to record that dramatic moment. I have often had people on the ground try to catch a falling cat, and, honestly, they usually do a poor job of it. It's hard to do, but Jeanie and Charlene handled it like professionals as if they do this several times every day. It was also fortunate that they could take the cat directly inside the clinic where she could be sedated while still in the net instead of trying to untangle a very agitated cat from the net while transferring her into a carrier.

It wasn't until after it was all over that I learned the cat's name. Charlene calls her Ho**ah Mama because of the street and neighborhood where the cat lives. Ho**ah Mama was spayed that day and returned to her home territory the following morning. This picture shows her just minutes before her release, and it is the only picture I have of her because I failed to turn on my camera for the entire rescue.

As if this rescue story isn't already long enough, I would like to use this case as an example to alert everyone to a serious problem with transporting cats in any hard carrier. Charlene's experience with her cat escaping the carrier is a very common one, and it is preventable. This happens much too frequently, and it often results in a displaced cat who is lost forever. When you hold a carrier by the top handle, the cat's weight can distort the carrier enough for the door to pop out of its hinge, especially when the cat places his weight near the hinge. I explain the problems and solutions in detail in a webpage ( link in first comment ) addressed to tree-climbers who rescue cats in trees, but the bottom half of that page is applicable to the general public. In short, my advice is to cut off the top handle so that you are never tempted to use it and always either hold the carrier underneath using two arms or rig it as explained so that you can carry it from above while the rigging supports it from beneath. Please heed this warning. It can save your cat's life and save you a heap of stress and trouble.

16/09/2025

It appears that the summer rescue slump is about over since I have had several calls lately. Fortunately, some of those calls resolved on their own, but I do have a few rescues to report, starting with Mimi in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Mimi is a cute, gray tabby youngster who was stuck in a tree in his own yard for one night. He was unhappy being there and panting in the heat, but he was happy to see me climbing up to him. I love easy, receptive kitties like this, and all I had to do was hold the carrier up to him and wait for him to figure out what to do with it. He tried getting on top of the carrier at first, but that didn't seem right. Once he stepped inside, it all became clear to him as I closed the door and took him back down to the ground. He and his family are very happy to be safe inside at home again. I forgot to turn on my camera for the critical part of the rescue, so I have very few pictures to show.

The next rescue was just as easy but more complicated and urgent because this kitty was displaced far from home and in the dark. Kelsey lives in Pineville, Louisiana but was visiting friends in Springfield, Louisiana and brought her dear three-month-old kitty, Bibble, with her. Kelsey settled on that name when trying many names and nonsense words just to see if any evoked a response in the kitty, and Bibble was the only word that worked. Bibble escaped outside in this rural area, and some dogs immediately began chasing him. He ran into the woods and smartly climbed a Pine tree to escape the dogs, but he was stuck at least 30 feet high there. To make matters worse, this happened just after sunset, and Kelsey planned to return home early the next morning. Kelsey wasted no time in seeking help and called me, but it was already fully dark when I got the call.

Normally, it is best to give a cat time to figure out how to climb down on his own, but if Bibble climbed down or fell down during the night, he would likely become lost or the victim of predators, so an immediate rescue is necessary. On the other hand, when a cat is chased up a tree by predators, he is in prey mode and not likely to be receptive to a rescue until he has had enough time to calm down and feel safe again, so delaying the rescue is usually advisable. That is especially true for cats who are normally skittish or afraid of strangers, but, fortunately, Bibble is a relaxed and friendly boy, so my hope was that he would be calmed down enough by the time I got there.

When I arrived, I was pleased to see that Bibble appeared so relaxed that he might even be napping. The dogs were long gone and forgotten, and he wasn't concerned about the noise the people made on the ground or all the lights shining on him or even the sound of a Barred owl very close in the woods. He remained relaxed while I climbed up to him, and once I was close, he perked up and appeared happy to see me. When I was close enough to reach out to touch him, he started purring. I already knew that he liked his carrier at home, so I pulled up the carrier and held it up over my head in front of him. Bibble did not hesitate to walk inside. I closed the door and took this sweet baby back down. He is now back home in his own familiar territory where he is safe and comfortable again. A link to a short video of the rescue is in the first comment.

06/09/2025

I almost always feel very good after a rescue, but this one was an exception. The cat was unknown, and he was stuck in a tree in a nice, large trailer park. I had only vague information about how long he had been there, but my best guess is that it was at least five days. He cried from time to time, but he was mostly quiet, so it was hard to judge his level of tameness. He made no sound at all when I arrived, and I had a hard time finding him. He was about 35 feet high near the top of a dense Cypress tree, and I knew right away that I would not be bringing a carrier into the tree with me. It would be hard enough to weave my body between all the many limbs, so I didn't want to make it harder by dragging a bulky carrier along with me too. Whether this kitty is tame or not, I will have to get him in a bag to bring him down.

Climbing up to him was a bit slow, but once I was within sight, he looked down at me and cried. Even though his cry sounded a bit distressed, I took this as an encouraging sign, because I knew that a feral cat would not cry at all. When I climbed up a little higher, he appeared and sounded like he may actually be a little excited to see me, but that turned out to be a misinterpretation on my part. By the time I reached his level, he walked out to the end of his short limb and settled there while refusing to interact with me. His demeanor hinted at a short fuse if I were to get too close, so I kept my distance and worked to get him to come to me.

My efforts to charm him and earn his trust were clearly being rebuffed, so I decided to see if he would react to food. When a cat is scared in a situation like this, food usually doesn't make a bit of difference to him, but sometimes it does, and this was one of those times. I watched him as I opened a can of food, and he perked up immediately. He knew that sound, and he stood up and began coming toward me. It is at times like this that I like to use a carrier, because I can simply place the food in the back of the carrier, and most cats will walk inside to get it. But I didn't have a carrier with me this time. Still, I have my cat bag, and once the cat eats and trusts me, I can bag him. At least, that's the way it usually works.

As the cat came toward me and the food, his disposition changed from scared cat to strong, fearless, mean beast who was intensely and aggressively focused on the food. He is the boss now, and nothing better get in his way. Never in my life have I ever seen a cat eat so ravenously. He grabbed the bowl with his paws to hold it close, and he opened his mouth wide, took huge bites, and gulped it down without chewing as quickly as he could. He buried his face into the food and didn't care that most of his face was getting covered with the gravy. Several days of silent suffering lead him to this desperate point, and I felt both frightened by his intensity and saddened by his severe hunger.

I was a bit scared to try to pet him while he ate, but I gave it a try anyway. Either he was so focused on the food that he didn't notice, or he was familiar with being touched, but whatever the reason, he didn't even flinch as I petted him repeatedly. I continued to hold the food bowl with one hand while he ate and licked the bowl clean. After several minutes, he finished, and then he began to recover from his eating trance and clean his face. As he did so, he seemed to become aware of how close he was to me now, and he began to back away a little at a time. He uttered some soft growls to let me know not to bother him anymore. Even though I had been petting him repeatedly while he ate, now he didn't want to have anything to do with me. He growled if I made any movement toward him, so I kept my distance and even backed away. He was still the boss, and he was still in charge.

Not once during this feeding frenzy did I think I could get this cat in a bag. I knew that if I were to try to grab him by the scruff or pull the food away, I would have been in a violent fight which he most certainly would win. If I had had the carrier with me, however, I have no doubt that he would have gone into it easily for the food, and I could have had this kitty secured safely inside. Instead, I stood there at a loss about what to do next as he backed all the way out toward the end of the limb. I decided to go back down, bring the carrier up with me, and see if he would still be hungry for a second can of food.

Climbing back up the tree the second time with the carrier turned out to be much easier than I expected, and I wished I had brought it with me the first time. When I reached the top of the tree, I was surprised to see that the cat was not where I left him. While I was away, he climbed up and over to the second-highest limb in the tree and perched near the end. I climbed up there with him, opened a can of food, held the carrier in position, and watched with great disappointment as he showed no interest. As ravenous as he was the first time, I thought he would still be hungry, but he wasn't. He had no interest in the food at all whether the carrier was near or not. I didn't know what else to do except try a different kind of food, so I shook some dry food to see if he would react to that, and he actually seemed to respond to it. Or maybe he just happened to feel the need to move at that time. I'm not sure which, because at that moment, he slipped on his flimsy limb and fell down about eight feet where he landed on another limb. I thought he would settle in there, but to my surprise, he slipped again, and, this time, he fell all the way to the ground. I could not see him through all the dense foliage, but I heard the sounds of his crashing through the limbs and landing with a thud on the ground.

I could not see the ground at all, so I don't know how he landed or if he was injured or where he went. I know that most cats who fall from this height survive it without any injury, so I was optimistic that this cat was fine, but I would like to know for sure. Once I got back down on the ground, he was nowhere to be found. I don't know if he went back home, or if he is a lost cat longing for home, or if he even has a home. I never had a chance to check him for a microchip, and I did not find any Lost Cat notices for him. I don't know his age or gender, though I'm guessing he is a male between two and four years old. I feel sad that this cat fell and that I don't know the answers to all these questions, but it is comforting to know that at least he is not stuck in the tree anymore and his belly is full.

01/09/2025

Whenever I go to rescue a cat a second time, I always wonder how he will react to me based on his experience with his first rescue. Did he perceive his first rescue as frightening, traumatic, pleasant, or just neutral? Even if the first rescue was very gentle and pleasant from my point of view, did he experience it differently? Does he even remember the first rescue? When I approach him this second time, will he regard me as predator or rescuer? Those are some of the concerns passing through my mind as I went, for the second time, to rescue Ron, the cool, orange tabby boy in Mandeville, Louisiana.

I went over my notes from Ron's first rescue to remind me how that rescue developed and how he reacted. I remember feeling disappointed that Ron showed no interest in stepping on my lap even though he was a frequent lap-sitter with his family. I remember reluctantly dropping the cat bag around him from above and lifting him to collect the bag beneath him. I did it as gently as possible, but it was more handling than I wanted for a sweet boy like this. I never know for sure how a cat feels about being enclosed in the bag, but most don't appear to mind it at all. It even seems to calm them. Ron seemed to handle it well, but, regardless, he may now look back on that time he was stuck in the tree as a miserable time and associate me with it as well. I never know what to expect, but I always try to make each rescue as gentle and pleasant as possible so that they don't have any reason to fear me on subsequent rescues. Plus it's just the right thing to do.

Ron had plenty of reason to be upset with me even before I started climbing up to him, because I had trouble getting my line into the tree above him and had to shoot it into the tree six times before I succeeded. Most cats would be upset at just one attempt, but Ron is a cool dude, and it didn't seem to bother him at all. He was perched out on the same limb in the same tree as before, and when he saw me climbing up to him, he came back toward the trunk to meet me. He wasn't excited to see me. He just calmly and unemotionally stepped into place as if catching a daily bus to take him to work. We exchanged greetings, and then I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap. He stepped on my lap with just his front legs first, and after a few more pets, he placed his back legs on my lap and then plopped his whole body down for a rest. After spending so much time on a hard, thin limb, he felt good to have a large, soft lap, and he took advantage of it. I welcomed him there on my lap for a minute, pulled the bag up around him, and then kept him on my lap for the entire ride back down to the ground.

Ron did not seem to mind being in the bag, and he emerged from the bag in his house with no fanfare or excitement. It was as routine as stepping off the bus at the end of a long day at work. He came back outside to see me again before I left, but then I packed up and stepped into my own bus to go back home after a short afternoon of rescue work. But I'm not as cool as Ron. I enjoy my work, and it shows on my face. Maybe I will see you again, Ron, and I hope you remember me fondly as I do you.

Cat Rescue Guy

27/09/2025

21/09/2025

18/09/2025

16/09/2025

06/09/2025

01/09/2025

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