Here's the word of the day: climbing.
Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.
There were three trees in the Peterson's backyard. The oak in the middle of the lawn had only been planted the year before and so was hardly taller than I was.
The fir in the back left corner was fighting a losing battle with some disease I couldn't spell or pronounce. They had removed all of its branches in an attempt to regain control and I thought it looked rather depressing. They should've just taken it out.
The last tree, a pine in the back right corner, was the oldest and healthiest of the bunch. It loomed over the neighborhood like a watch tower, full of prickly needles and covered with sticky sap.
So of course it was this tree that Fluffy the cat chose to climb to the top of when I was taking care of her.