Opal's Distress

Her name is Opal, and she slept in the tree all night. 

Opal is the sweetest thing, very dainty and good at hiding, watching her humans going about their day around her. There were so many humans - six (with the frequent addition of two more) - that Opal was sometimes overwhelmed. Then she disappeared into a private little nook all her own.

One of the six, a girl, understood Opal's distress and sympathized. This girl waited, and was quiet, and Opal was tamed.

Opal and her brother Oscar, were happy in their life on Ransom Road. But it was an inside life. The woman who fed them said so. They would be 'inside cats', and so no one must ever leave a door open. If they left a door open, well then dreadful things might happen. So everyone made a gargantuan effort about the doors. But with six humans (and two occasionals) going in and out and about all day long, it was only a matter of time.

Ever curious, Opal and Oscar watched the big French doors, hoping to dart out to where the World lived. The World looked so interesting, so big from the inside out. There were birds, and balls, and barbecues from which they, the cats, were excluded. And then all of a sudden, it must have been a miracle - there were CHICKENS OUT THERE! Chickens, because the woman who fed them needed eggs. Both cats felt something welling up inside of them when they saw those chicks through the French doors. They watched...and they waited...and they kept an eye to the Main Chance. 

One day the inevitable door was left open, and Opal inevitably darted. She found herself in the middle of the big back yard, the World now at her feet. This wasn't altogether comfortable, at first. The woman had instilled in her a sense that inside was right, and... but a bird flitted by, and landed. Then it went up. Opal watched it. This was fascinating, even if it wasn't right. 

But the woman had seen, and come, and gotten. A gargantuan effort was made again about the doors, until...

One day, the girl came looking. The Opal-cat could not be found. "Opal? Kitty-kitty..? Mom, I can't find Opal."

They heard, from somewhere up above them, a sound.

"Meeyowwwwwwwel!" it said, and the girl looked up. "She's in the tree!"

And not just any tree either. The tree was over 20 feet tall.

Was this a job for Superman? Or a fire truck? No, those things happen only in Baby Boomer books and films, and so the lovers-of-Opal set to work. They called her, clicked their tongues, said, "kitty kitty" multiple times. Grandpa called Grandma in England ("Don't get yourselves scratched!" she said)... but no one had an exact magic word. It was going to be up to Opal.

All night she kept her vigil, and no one knows whether she slept. Early the next morning an extension ladder  appeared; was set up against the tree. A boy climbed up it as Opal watched, waiting for her hero to make it okay to come down again. He did. And she purred.

She'd had enough of trees.