This seems a strange place to start my blog, but it does illustrate how strange our life is here sometimes. I woke up the other morning to the sound of crows cawing, which is very unusual. I noticed it but didn't really wonder why until I went downstairs to make coffee and noticed out the kitchen window that about 10 huge, black crows were hopping around on the criss-crossed power lines at the end of our yard chattering at each other. I mused about it sleepily waiting for the coffee to brew, wondering why they were suddenly so territorial.

Then I saw it. The brown lifeless body of a cat - our cat! - hanging over the top of the pole, and those crows were arguing over who saw it first. There was no doubt in my mind that our beloved Stasey was dead the way her limp form draped there, and all I could think was that I must get her down somehow before her body was desecrated by the hungry birds...and God forbid our children should see her.

I assumed she'd been electrocuted. The night before we'd not been able to find her to put her in the basement before bed (she likes to wake us at four or five AM if we don't) so we guessed she was probably out for the night, enjoying the warm(er) spring weather to hunt mice. My heart was in my stomach when I went to tell the girls the Stasey had gone to a better place.

Of course they were devastated, and the sobbing and wailing began in earnest. Let me just say that we are cat people, and Stasey had been with us for six years, a sometimes feisty, fat, loving kitty - and we were really going to miss her. I should not have been so quick to deliver the bad news, because I then realized I would have to go deal with her body and leave the girls to console each other alone. I exacted a promise before I left that they would not leave the room.

I stepped outside into the cool morning air, and unrealistically hopeful, called up to the sky, "Stasey?" Maybe she would lift her head and we could rush her to the vet. But she didn't lift her head...she came running up to the front door! It wasn't Stasey up there! She was alive! Amazingly, another cat the exact color of our unique (we thought) tabby had gotten trapped right in front of our house. What's more, that cat was alive, too! At the sound of my voice, she awoke, struggled into a sitting position atop the pole and scolded the crows who dejectedly flew away.

The girls were overjoyed (and a little irritated that I would scare them so) and Stasey must have determined that staying out all night was definitely preferable to a night in the basement, especially with this kind of morning welcome. Happy again, I left the girls to annoy our cat with hugs and kisses while I went to deal with the stuck kitty. When I came back, Germy the large German Shepherd from next door had also noticed the kitty and was keeping a vigil at the foot of the pole growling. I guessed the he was the reason kitty fell asleep up there in the first place.

Now, let me explain that in Mongolia one does not call the fire department to fetch kitties down from trees or tall poles. 1) Mongolians do not like cats, and 2) even if they did, fire fighters just don't waste their time on that sort of thing. When Naraa, our Mongolia helper arrived, I asked her to call the city to see if anyone could send out a ladder. She called, but at 9:30 the office still wasn't open, so we waited. About an hour later, with Germy off investigating something around the front of the house, kitty got up her nerve and backed her way down the long, long pole.

My only regret is that I didn't get a picture of this weirdness, but here is a photo of the pole, and of course, one of our sweetie, Stasey.