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She had. In fact rain was lashing the windscreen now, the wipers working at full speed and still not able to remove the water fast enough to provide a clear view of the road. Suddenly lightning slashed the night sky, and lit up the road in eerie clarity, immediately followed by a crashing thunder that seemed to shake the earth and rattle the car.

“It’s right over Hampton Cove,” she said. “My cats will be so scared. They hate storms.”

“We’re almost there,” he assured her. “Did you bring the umbrella?”

She nodded, though a measly umbrella wouldn’t do much good against the elements this storm had unleashed. The rain was hitting them from every direction, not simply falling down in a straight vertical line as it should.

The lights of several fire trucks guided them to the place where the trouble centered, and Chase parked his pickup right behind the nearest one. They got out, and immediately were pummeled by a gale-force wind. A branch had snapped off a tree and was lying across the road.

“This is getting pretty dangerous!” Chase cried over the otherworldly roar from the storm. He was holding up the umbrella, until suddenly it simply snapped up and flew off!

They trudged on, hair whipped by the storm, and faces pummeled by sluicing rain.

Finally they arrived at the playground, which was where the cats liked to gather at night, to gab and sing their hearts out, much to the annoyance of the park’s neighbors.

“I don’t see them!” she cried, as she looked around. But then Chase pointed up, and as she glanced in the direction he was pointing, suddenly she saw it: dozens and dozens of cats, all up in the trees that lined the playground, and all looking absolutely terrified!

The fire department had set up powerful halogen lights, and pointed them at those trees, and caught in the glare of those lights, dozens of cat eyes reflected back, wide and black and fearful!

She searched for her own cats, and suddenly a familiar pitiful mewling reached her ears. It was Max, and he looked fully soaked to the skin, as did Dooley, clutching to the same tree branch. Next to them, Harriet and Brutus were also holding on for dear life!

“Oh, my treasures!” she cried, and reached up to them. But of course they were too far up. “They’ll never be able to get down from there!” she yelled to Chase.

“We’ll have to go and get them,” he said, and hurried over to a nearby fireman.

And as she watched, she saw that the fire department was getting ready to mount an operation to get those cats out of those trees pronto, with several ladder trucks being positioned to accomplish that complicated task.

“I never thought I’d say this,” a fireman yelled as he joined her, “but I’m actually more nervous to go up there than to head into a burning building!”

“And why is that!” she asked.

“Because it’s cats! And no matter what you do, they will fight you every step of the way, even if all you’re doing is trying to save them! And of course there’s that!” He was pointing to a nearby tree, which saw a branch dangerously sweeping in the wind. “That’s gonna go down any minute!”

On the branch, several cats were hanging on and looking terrified.

“Just do your best,” she said. “I’ll try to calm them down.”

He grinned at her.“I know you will, Mrs. Kingsley. That’s why we called you in!”

Oh, dear. She really was the town’s cat lady, wasn’t she?

And while the ladders were being slowly extended, and the fire personnel got ready to mount them, she yelled,“These brave people are going to come and save you! So please cooperate as best you can. And that means no scratching, no clawing, and whatever you do, don’t try to be cute and climb even higher into those trees! That goes for you, too, Buster!”

The cats all seemed to pay attention, and when Max repeated her message, she was starting to believe this rescue operation might just be pulled off without any casualties. But when the first fireman had reached the first cat, the feline suddenly hauled off and smacked him right on the helmet!

“Tigger, no!” suddenly an authoritative voice bellowed. “You will cooperate! Now!”

“Yes, Harriet,” the cat named Tigger said meekly, and allowed the fireman to grab him and one of his fellow cats, and take him down.

“All of you!” Harriet boomed in a surprisingly powerful voice. “If you don’t behave, you’ll have me to deal with! And if you think this storm is bad, wait until I come for you!”

“Yes, Harriet,” several more voices called out. “We’ll be good, Harriet!”

And so it happened. The firefighters fought the storm, and their own fear of being clawed or bitten or scratched, and one by one all the cats of Hampton Cove were brought down from those trees. It was a rescue operation worthy of a disaster movie starring Chris Pratt or Dwayne Johnson, and when the last cat had been safely returned to earth, a loud cheer rose up. It was the cats’ way of paying tribute to their heroic saviors.

And it didn’t even sound out of tune.