Cats on the roof,


Cats don’t suffer from vertigo – and Nathalie’s tomcat Fyodor is no exception. Nathalie thinks he’s much too cautious and wise - and also a bit cowardly – to climb up to the ledge of the sixth-floor roof terrace, and from there to climb up to the roof via the suspension rings of the eaves gutter.  But curiosity got the better of him. For him, after all, embarking on this journey is a piece of cake.  He’s on the look-out for neighbour cats and, in the city, rooftops just happen to offer the best “networking” opportunities for felines.

Some roof landscapes, however, pose a challenge for even the most nimble and clever of cats. Decrepit access covers, for example, can buckle beneath even a light kitty – and most definitely will under the weight of the stately Fyodor! He doesn’t tumble far as there is a barrier just three meters below. He’s not hurt either as he was able to brace his fall down the narrow shaft using his paws and claws. But now he’s down there, pitifully meowing to the opening above and to the grating below. He’s stuck. Like a spider in an enamelled basin - climbing out is not an option.

Nathalie was, of course, counting on Fyodor’s wisdom and cowardice.  Nevertheless, she fastened a little pendant onto his collar that bears a very suitable appellation, namely “Kitten”.  That she thought of doing this is, in turn, a sign of Nathalie’s farsighted wisdom. After waiting for what seems like an eternity, she picks up her Smartphone to activate the tracing function.
Strangely, the animal is in the building opposite hers - but not on the roof above it. Apparently, he is in an apartment below. Is Fyodor being fed? Is he being held captive?

Nathalie heads downstairs and proceeds to a side street; she manages to contact the tenant of the apartment where she presumes Fyodor to be. The tenant is caught unawares. “What makes you think that? Be my guest - have a look for yourself!” While she is calling out to Fyodor in the living room, she takes note of a muted meow from somewhere behind the thick walls.  Once again, she summons her locating device along the lines of “cat station calling kitty cat!”  Then it becomes clear: Fyodor is stuck somewhere behind the walls in a hole that he must have fallen into from above. “Can I get to the roof from here?”
“Yes, use the attic stairs.”

Fire brigades rush into action not just for fires. Now and again, they are called out all for naught. But quite frequently, they come to the rescue of cats that have suffered a misstep - as in the case of the completely dishevelled and anxious Fyodor, who had to be extracted from the air shaft of a building across the street.  From now on, Nathalie will look upon this building with different eyes. And each time, she will gratefully acknowledge that the “Kitten” on Fyodor’s collar was a pretty good idea.


Story translated by EnglishProCo