One evening we heard a wailful crying, it sounded like a little baby. But there are no babies around here.
Mr. Gattino got up and checked the garden. The crying came from our weeping willow tree. Approaching in the moonless night he saw a white spot far above him, on a branch.
"Arthur" he shouted "is that you ?" I waited for Arthur's answer responding "yes" but Instead I heard his continuing songs. Mr. Gattino hurried me to look after a pocket lamp as he could see nothing. I ran over to the house and put everything upside down to find the lamp, while I heard Mr. Gattino shouting "Got the lamp ? Where are you ?" as if I had disappearded to the north pole. Finally I found the lamp hidden in a drawer where I hadn't looked in for ages, catched it and returned running. He took the lamp and pointed it to the white spot. Arthur, squinted in the sudden light and stopped singing. He only greated us with a very little "meauw", which made our hearts melt.
He was sitting there on a branch and looked down to us. Mr. Gattino started swearing in his discret opera voice, as usual in italian, when he doesn't like a situation. It was past midnight and the neighbourhood slept. I suggested to take a ladder and try to get Arthur down. What he did, still swearing. It's amazing what Italians have for a treasury of words ! And on top of it, it sounds almost nice and not so ugly as when you swear in another language.
By the time my next neighbor had opened her window and looked out. The scenery must have been worthwhile to watch. Mr Gattino in his pajama, swearing and fumbling around with the ladder, me in my old T-shirt reassuring poor Arthur again singing in the tree.
Finally the ladder was in the right place, Mr. Gattino climbed up and told Athur to jump on his shoulder. Arthur found it very funny that his beloved canopener also wanted to sit in the tree and welcomed him by scratching his nose. The canopener sweared a little louder.
Then Arthur suddenly turned around and jumbed on another branch. No way to catch him. I called Arthur and told the hysterical Mr. Gattino to calm down. By now Arthur had reached the lower branches and like a dart jumped on the grass just besides my legs. Then he sat down and looked up, wondering what his canopener did up there.
Mr. Gattino was still sitting on the ladder in the tree ... and if he didn't climb down he still sits there.
This story happened two years ago. Since then Arthur is still climbing on his beloved tree, but not so high anymore and he manages also to climb down !