That 'something'

Oh, my dear, sweet, silly-headed Christopher. For those of you lucky enough to know my husband (it doesn't have to be well), understand that there's just 'something' about him. You might not understand what that 'something' is, but you understand that it's there... and you know that Chris just wouldn't be Chris without it.

It is a certain characteristic, a special quality- a quirk, if you will. In my eyes, it's honest, endearing and love able. It's that 'something' that I adore most about him (and occasionally what makes me the most crazy). That 'something' usually shines brightest when he is cracking jokes, making strange noises, and/or singing songs. But it comes out in other really amazing ways, too.

For example: Last Wednesday evening, around 8:30 pm, Chris got a call from our good friends, the Goods. Their beloved cat, Dimitri (aka 'D') got himself into quite a pickle. And when I say, 'quite a pickle', I mean, stranded at the very tippy top of an old 50(ish)-ft. silo.

Don't ask me how- I have NO idea.

Regular cats get themselves stuck atop trees and things like that. But, you see, D is not an average cat. D has got that 'something' too (a feline version of it). And I think he could handle a tree, no problem. But this ancient farming storehouse... eh, not so much.

Anyway, Chris, without hesitation promised to help his good friend save the Good kitty. So, we hopped in the truck, and made our way to the scene.

I think it is safe to assume that D was after a few roosting pigeons when he suddenly found himself atop this tower of terror, but we'll never know exactly how he managed it, or exactly how long he was up there.

Regardless, my heart semi sank as Chris agreed that he was the only one with long enough legs to successfully climb up the rusty, dusty silo- go figure. Ugh.

I felt like I was on one of those animal rescue shows, only I was admittedly more concerned for the rescuer than I was for the four-legged victim.

But Chris assured me that he could do it. Then, made one of his 'jokes' about plummeting to his death/getting his face scratched off, handed me his wedding band (you'd think he would know better), and started to ascend.

Here's how it happened...

UP climbs Chris.

UP goes the bucket.

DOWN comes the bucket.

And OUT pops the cat.

Whew... we think D might have used up a few of his nine lives with this little stunt. But who's counting?

Maybe he should have been a fireman?!

After Chris slowly came back down the corroded ladder, and lovingly swooped up the Good cat for a photo op, I realized that he never really had a choice in the matter of saving D that night- that 'something' made him do it.

I'm one lucky gal. ; )