I was pretty much convinced that right above my house was a huge arrow pointing down and visible only to the feline population. This, to me, was the only conceivable reason why homeless cats and kittens kept arriving in our front yard.

Mikey, the youngest of our three current resident cats landed out of the blue on the large lawn at the front of the house about a year ago. We happened to be outside and when this kitten spotted us from the pasture next door, she came gamboling (the only way I can adequately describe her journey) toward us as if to say, “Here I am. I’m coming to my new home.”

She was right.

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But here we are, more than a year later and I now realize I was wrong — about the arrow that is. Although not visible to the human eye, it obviously shines like a well-lit neon sign to all four-legged animals.

It was a Friday morning and I was leaving my home to drive into town to do some shopping. I almost made it to my car when a young boxer dog rounded the corner of the carport, gamboled (there’s that word again) up to me with that all too familiar expression of having found her way to her new home. Suddenly a second cold nose pressed against my leg and I discovered the young boxer was not alone. Her traveling companion, also very friendly, was a German shepherd and retriever mix.

“Well this is nice, but I have to leave,” I said to the pair who had by now made themselves comfortable on my back steps. Hoping they had just come to say “Hi” and continue on their journey, I got in my car and drove away.

About 30 minutes later my cell phone rang.

“Mom there are two dogs here,” said my son who was working the late shift and therefore still at home. “Their barking woke me. Are all the cats inside the house?”

“All except Mikey,” I told him. “She went out early this morning.”

“That’s who they must have been barking at. I’ll see if I can get her in before I leave.”

The following scenario went something like this:

The two visiting dogs had decided they were at the end of their journey.

By late afternoon the search for Mikey became intense, hampered by the scampering of the dogs that loved this new and exciting game.

The dogs were led to the fenced-in dog yard used by a predecessor.

Shaking the food container (a usual guarantee of cats appearing) under the house where this cat usually found solace, brought no results.

Night began to fall and our yells of “Mikey” brought no answering cries.

Son arrived home and joined the search, wandering over to one of the large oak trees in the yard.

“I’ve found her,” he said, pointing up to one of the highest branches in the tree from where she began the most pitiful crying.

Darkness fell. Three adults with flashlights tried to show the cat the way down with no success.

Dogs, who had been fed and watered, congratulated themselves on their new home although a little concerned about the humans running round the tree.

Twenty-five-year-old son begins to climb the tree in the dark.

I hold my breath and pray.

Sixty-year-old man of the house begins to climb the tree in the dark. This is too much for me, I went into the house.

By 11 p.m. the general consensus was that by morning Mikey would be so hungry she would come down from the tree and be waiting at the door when we awoke. Just in case, son dragged out an old mattress, which he placed on the cement directly under the branch where the still-crying cat was perched.

When Saturday morning came, the cat was still crying in tree the shepherd-retriever was waiting for breakfast at back door, obviously able to jump the fence. Although free, he obviously had no desire to leave. The boxer was watching all activity from the safety of his new fenced-in yard. We called friends to see if any had an extension ladder; none had.

By mid-morning, we visited Iberia Rental to rent a 32-foot extension ladder.

Armed with a towel with which to wrap the frightened cat, man of the house made successful climb and rescued Mikey. All three cats have been confined to house until problem of lost dogs solved.

Although we ran an ad in the newspaper, visited the Human Society, called to Animal Control (just to find out if anyone had called about missing dogs) and called all vets in the area, no one wanted to claim the dogs.

But I am glad to be able to report that today, more than a couple of weeks later, the boxer has found a good home and, thanks to Dayna Perry at the Iberia Humane Society,  the shepherd-retriever is going to be fostered until a home for him can be found.

As for Mikey, every time she hears a barking dog, she scrambles like a cartoon cat and shoots under the bed.

Will she ever go outdoors again? Only time will tell.

JENNIFER E. MAY is former Teche Life editor of the Daily Iberian.