Mitch stared up at the little yellow tabby cat stuck on a limb high up in his tree. With a sigh, he rolled up his sleeves and began climbing up after the cat, cursing his luck for having such a stubborn cat for a pet. Why couldn’t he have gotten one more inclined to come when called, and had more sense than to get stuck up a tree?
After a few minutes of slow, careful climbing, Mitch finally reached the branch his cat was crouched halfway down on. The cat saw him and let out a pitiful mew. Mitch slowly inched out onto the limb and carefully reached out to the cat. However, the limb was not very thick or sturdy, and did not want to hold Mitch’s weight. Mitch had barely gotten out on it before it began to bend and crack. The cat, frightened, cried out and leaped onto Mitch’s back and to the trunk of the tree, where it began to claw its way back down, head first.
A few seconds later, the limb broke off underneath Mitch. He let out a quick yell as he began to fall, but he managed to quickly grab onto another limb and slowly make his way back down to the ground.
The broken limb fell, unfortunately, onto the car of Mitch’s grumpy neighbor, Earl, who has never really liked Mitch and has constantly complained about things Mitch has done, sometimes to the police much to Mitch’s chagrin. Mitch has never really done anything wrong, to warrant Earl’s ire, though there were a few instances that were purely accidental and which Earl has never let Mitch live down.
This, Mitch thought when he was what had happened to the limb, would be another such incident.
Only moments after the limb fell onto car, Earl came stomping out his front door. “That does it!” he cried out, “I’ve had it with that idiot! I’m going to tear him limb from limb! Mitch! Get over here!”
Mitch walked over to Earl’s car, which despite having a tree limb falling on the hood, didn’t appear to have too much damage done.
“How are you doing, Earl?” Mitch asked nonchalantly as he stepped up beside the older man.
“How am I doing?” Earl asked disbelievingly. He waved a gnarled hand at his car. “How do you think I’m doing?”
Mitch eyed the car. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re not having a very good day?”
“You can say that again! Look at what you did to my car! And what are you going to do about it?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, you know. It was a complete accident. And honestly, it doesn’t look that bad.”
“It doesn’t look that bad? Are you kidding me? Look at it!”
“I think insurance will probably cover it. But look, if there’s any problem about it, I’ll pay whatever insurance won’t cover to get it fixed? Ok? And if you need a ride anywhere until it’s fixed, I’ll take you? Ok? I am sorry about this, Earl. Really. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Earl sighed. “Fine,” he grunted. “But don’t let something like this happen again. Understand, Mitch? Not if you want to keep your limbs intact.”
Mitch gulped and watch the older man stalk back into his house. Then a yellow blur caught his eye and he turned to see his cat making a bee-line for another tree. “Oh no you don’t, Tink!” he cried out. “Get back here!”
Mitch ran off, chasing after his cat.
This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “limb”: