Steven R. Reed

Lansing State Journal

EAST LANSING – This is a cat rescue tale. It involves Mister, a too-curious black cat, and the Board of Water & Light.

The story will take you to new heights, expose great cat peril and another actual loss of power to an entire neighborhood. In the end, some East Lansing residents may see BWL in a new light. But first, the rescue.

Mister, the black cat Ian Sargeant adopted from abandonment at a South Lansing Quality Dairy last spring, didn't come home for dinner Saturday.

It was dark by the time his presence was missed so the search effort by Ian, 31, and his parents, Stephen and Marlene, didn't amount to much.

Sunday morning the Sargeants were out early in search of Mister, who is believed to be something less than a year old. Front yard. Back yard. Down the street. Asking neighbors. No Mister.

Coyotes in our midst? Road kill? A cat buddy? Such things come to mind when your Mister goes missing.

Monday morning and the Sargeants are back outside looking, calling, hoping.

Meow.

Sounds like Mister. Yup, up a 45-feet-tall backyard utility pole without a paddle. Or a ladder. Sitting on top of the transformer bucket. Presumably for two days. Unreachable and in very real danger of getting fried and more.

"I called the fire department," Ian said. "They said they couldn't really help."

His father suggested calling the power company.

"One guy showed up and saw what was going on and said, 'We can't mess around. Your cat is next to a high voltage line. He could die any second. I'm going to drive to a major junction box and cut the power to the neighborhood.'"

When the unidentified BWL worker came back, he was accompanied by two other BWL employees. One worker tied a cable around his waist, put on spiked, pole-climbing shoes and didn't stop until he could introduce himself to Mister.

"Mister didn't react favorably," Ian said.

The idea was to persuade Mister to hop into the canvass bag the worker had carried with him. A rope attached to the bag handle would enable it to be lowered to the ground.

"Mister did not like it even though we put food in there for him," said Ian.

Negotiations ensued. Mister hopped onto the back of the BWL lineman. Attempts were made to place Mister in the bag. Third time was the charm, Ian said.

When the bag reached the ground, "the cat ran straight into the house," Ian said.

Ian thanked the workers, who declined to identify themselves and refused to accept any gratuity.

"They said, 'nope, just have a good day," Ian said. "The guys from BWL were just awesome. They came out really promptly. They made sure my cat's safety was in order. They didn't fool around. They were extremely professional and showed they cared.

"That wowed me."

Ian said he still wants to find out the names of the workers and see if he can persuade their bosses to let him treat them to some pizza from the restaurant where he works.

By virtue of the investigative powers vested in the LSJ, we hereby declare:

Electric service worker Frank Baron rescued Mister. Line worker Dave Six handled the rope line. Line worker Ken Page was available as needed, according to Steve Serkaian, BWL spokesman.

Until BWL turned off the primary line to the pole, Mister was within a whisker of 2,400 volts.

"The vertical wire coming down from the primary line to the transformer … is attached to the bushing sticking out from the top of the transformer," Serkaian said. "Both the stinger line and part of the bushing is 'hot' to the touch and would have electrocuted the cat and could have caused damage to the line and transformer" and knocked out power to the neighborhood.