First, let me get this straight.  I don’t like heights.  I don’t like to climb ladders, cliffs, or tall fire towers.  I occasionally will still climb trees but I feel more secure in them than I do on a ladder.

     Today when I took Patty out I heard a fluttering in the top of the magnolia tree.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Then I took Gavin out and heard it again.  This time I looked up.  There, high in the tree was a robin dangling on a string from a small branch.  I’m a real softy when it comes to creatures in trouble but for the life of me, I couldn’t quite figure out how I was going to save this bird.  He was awful high up in the tree.

     “Hmm, ladder?  Oh, crap I hate ladders and Dear Hubby is asleep so I can’t ask him to stand there and hold it steady for me.”

     The poor bird flapped frantically. 

     “Okay, I’ll get the ladder.”  I dragged the step ladder off the porch and climbed up to the top.  Knees shaking, hands sweating.  “No way I can reach you.  Now what?  Broom?”  Climbed down the ladder.  Climbed back up the ladder.  Tried the broom—not even close.  “Well, crap.  Maybe the long pole branch cutter.”  Long, poled, very, heavy branch cutter that could easily knock me off kilter.  Don’t forget I’m also a klutz.  There I am with the long pole balanced against a tree branch so I can climb the dreaded ladder.  The robin is still dangling and watching me with trepidation.  I slowly make my way up the ladder, reach for the cutter, and haul it up.  Next comes the hard part.  (As if all of this wasn’t difficult enough.)  I now have to extend this 8 foot long, very heavy pole with a cutter on the end up above my head and try not to hit the now panicking, wildly wing flapping robin.

     My plan was to cut the small branch as near to his foot as I could.  (If I didn’t over balance and fall off the ladder.)  I eased the cutter closer to the crazed bird.  I hooked it onto the branch and suddenly the bird was flapping downward.  I hadn’t cut the branch but somehow managed to clip the string.  I eased the cutter down to the ground, rested it against a low branch, and climbed off the ladder.  I was glad to be on solid ground, though from the way it looked not nearly as glad as the robin.  Once he caught his breath, he shot out of the yard like a red and brown arrow.