Cat Rescue Guy (2026)

26/05/2026

It sounded like such a quick and easy rescue. On the phone, Brian explained to me how his seven-year-old cat, Booski, was only 12 feet high in a tree near his house which was located less than 15 minutes away from me. It sounded like all I would need to do is place a ramp on Booski's limb and wait for her to come down on her own. Booski had already spent two nights in the tree and was getting a bit stressed and feisty, so it would be best to give her some space and a way to come down on her own terms which is exactly what a ramp to the ground would do. She would surely come down the ramp and go straight back home.

I loaded the ramp on my car and headed over there. When I arrived, I met Brian and found Booski sitting pretty and sweet-looking on a very short limb only 12 feet high. I still thought this would be quick and easy, but I forgot how hard it is to assemble and lift a heavy, 22-foot long ramp up into the tree. Brian had warned me about the mosquitos, but that is a standard expectation here, especially during rainy weather days like we have been having. However, in the area near the tree, the mosquitos were especially thick and swarming on this hot, humid and airless morning, so I was not having a happy time struggling to lift the ramp into position. I was sweating and swatting vigorously, but, with Brian's help, we finally got the ramp into position on Booski's limb. During the process, I learned just how feisty Booski could be. She did not like anything, including the ramp, coming anywhere near her, and she expressed her displeasure with hissing, spitting, loud screams and swatting. The ramp had no trouble handling her abuse, but I would not want to be near that ferocious savagery myself. With the ramp now in position, all I needed to do was wait and give her time to adjust to it and then use it. I sent Brian back inside, and I sat in the car to watch from a distance. Booski settled down a bit and sniffed the ramp thoroughly, but she wasn't making any attempt to use it. I decided to leave and just give her some time to adjust. I was sure she would take advantage of the ramp, but I just didn't know when. Brian would watch and keep me updated.

The next morning, Booski was still in the tree, and that marked the end of my Plan A. Still, I had a Plan B, and it won't be hard to get her down. I will just use my long-handle net to try to scoop her up into it. If she falls off the limb instead, as often happens with the net, then she will likely handle such a short fall just fine and run back inside the house. I placed the net between Booski and the trunk of the tree because I wanted her to move out toward the end of the limb just as all cats would normally do. If we get lucky, she will lose her footing on the thin twigs at the end and hang by her front claws, and at that point, it will be easy to scoop her up into the net. Things didn't quite go according to plan. Unlike all other cats, Booski didn't move away from the net. She lunged toward it with a vicious, loud scream and a ferocious swat. She held her ground, and when the net moved toward her, she went on the offensive and attacked it. It took repeated attempts to get her to retreat, but she was giving up only a few inches of territory, and at that point, the vines and spreading limbs were making it impossible to move the large net toward her any farther.

Scaring her out to the tips of the limb was not working, so it was time to move on to Plan C. I propped the net in place to prevent her from going back to the trunk of the tree, and then my hands were free to use a pole saw to cut the limb to make her fall to the ground. That, too, did not go according to plan. As I cut the limb, the limb drooped into a vertical position but was still attached. Booski clung to the limb and instinctively climbed upward while I rushed to finish cutting the limb to make it fall free. Something I could not see was preventing me from cutting the rest of the limb, and Booski had time to reach the net which was still there but not sufficiently blocking her path back to the trunk. I returned to the net to hold her in place, but she somehow managed to get around it and start climbing higher up the trunk. There was a large oak tree nearby with a long, arching branch that rested against the trunk of Booski's tree, and she got on it and walked out the long branch and stopped on the the level section halfway between the two trees. She plopped down there with an air of victorious superiority and sneered with disgust at me and my stupid Plans A, B and C. I should mention that the mosquitos and hot, humid, sweaty conditions were all still in play during this entire drama.

It was time for Plan D, but I didn't feel confident about it. I would need to climb the large Oak tree and set a trap on Booski's long branch. There were two reasons why I lacked confidence in this plan. Normally, when I set a trap in a tree, it is set between the cat and trunk of the tree so that the cat has no place to go except toward, and hopefully in, the trap. In Booski's case, she could go back to the original tree, or she could just stay where she is on a large, level and relatively comfortable branch. The second reason I was skeptical was Booski's attitude. She attacked anything that was near her, so she is not going to go close to the trap, or, if she does, she will swat at it first and cause the trap door to fall closed while she is still outside the trap. I may need to set or refresh the trap several times before she adjusts to it enough to actually go into it. I proceeded to install the trap anyway, but when I climbed up to Booski's branch, she did not do like all other cats and move away from me. She held her ground, lunged toward me, and swatted at me with loud screams. I had originally planned to set the trap on the first level part of the branch where Booski was resting, but after seeing how hostile she was, I decided the trap would work just fine on the closer and safer angled part. It was a little scary and loud, but I installed the trap and left while wondering if the neighbors were calling the police to report a cat being tortured somewhere in the neighborhood. I went back to my car and watched from a distance in case Booski decided to surprise me and go into the trap right away, but she didn't show any interest in it at all. She settled down for a nap far from the trap, so I left knowing that Brian would be watching. It's hardly worth mentioning, but the mosquitos and sweaty conditions continued to contribute to the misery of all this activity.

I didn't hear anything from Brian the rest of the day or night, and I was unable to get in touch with him the next morning. I drove over there not knowing what to expect, but I was surprised and greatly relieved to find Booski safely inside the trap. She looked down at me and growled some unprintable obscenities, but I was very happy to see her. As expected, she expressed intense objection to my presence so close to her in the tree, and, again, I wondered what the neighbors must be thinking about all these loud screams. I was careful to keep my hands as far as possible from the trap while I loosened the straps which were holding it tightly in place, and I carefully lowered her to the ground. The screaming continued while I carried her back to her house, but she is now quiet, safe and happy back inside her home again. It may be hard to believe that this potent, hostile beast is a sweet, docile kitty at home with Brian, but that is indeed the case. She likes to sleep beside him at night and sit with him and purr while he pets her, so she does have a sweet side. I'm sorry I never got to see it because, otherwise, this difficult three-day rescue could have been accomplished in one, easy hour, and she would have spent a total of only two nights in the tree instead of four. Not to mention saving me a few hundred mosquito bites and several quarts of sweat.

I have no pictures of Booski in the original tree. After all, I was not expecting this to last long or even be a rescue worth reporting. However, the first picture says it all. You can see the ramp to the right still resting on the first limb after it was partially cut. Booski climbed from that limb up the trunk to the branch where she is now resting, swishing her tail, and quietly daring me to come closer.

17/05/2026

It has been rather quiet here lately in what I assume is the beginning of the Summer Season Slowdown, but there happened to be two local kitties, Simba and Milky, who boldly defied the seasonal norms and got stuck in a tree anyway. Simba, a sweet orange tabby in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, spent one night about 30 feet high in a narrow Sweetgum tree in his backyard. Even though he is normally timid with strangers, he appeared to overcome that quite easily with me. He came to me and seemed very comfortable with my petting him, but he didn't see how I could be of any use to him. He repeatedly came to me to say hello, and then he would turn around and go back out a short distance on his limb. I could not convince him to step on my lap, so I decided to just grab him by the scruff and bag him. I always aim to be as gentle as possible, but I mishandled the bagging, and had to be less gentle than usual to ensure that I secured him inside the bag. Once he was secured, I reassured him there on my lap, and he forgave me and sat patiently there while we went back down to the ground. He is safe at home again where he is very fortunate to have a family who adores him.

Milky is a ten-month-old tortie who lives with her three litter-mates in nearby Central, Louisiana. She and her litter-mates all escaped the house recently, and the family rushed to get them all back inside. They recovered all her litter-mates, but they could not find Milky until two days later when they heard her in a neighbor's Pine tree. Of all the kitties in her litter, Milky is the one who is most fearful of strangers. She was only 20 feet high on the lowest limb of the tree, but the tree was large, and she had a lot more tree to climb if she became frightened of me. I climbed up to her slowly and carefully, but my caution seemed to be unnecessary as she seemed to be very receptive as I approached. She stayed on her short limb even while I was almost level with her, but I could also sense that she was not completely sure of me. She kept wavering between trusting me and not trusting me. It took some gentle pets over several minutes before she finally decided I was at least trustworthy enough. At that point, I placed my hands under her chest and lifted her off her limb and placed her on my lap where I had already spread the bottom of the cat bag. She settled very comfortably there, and after a few reassuring pets, I lifted the sides of the cat bag all around her and secured her inside. Milky is safe at home again with her litter-mates and a loving family who had been very worried about her.

27/04/2026

Milo is a seven-month-old kitty in Walker, Louisiana who always runs away from strangers, and that is exactly what I expected from him when I started climbing up to him in the tall Pine tree in his next-door neighbor's yard where he had already spent one night. Milo didn't wait for me to get close. He started climbing higher as soon as it was clear that I was headed in his direction. I felt lucky when I saw him go out on a short limb because he would be trapped there once I climbed up level with him. However, when I got close enough to see that his limb was very dead, I became worried that it could break at any moment without warning, and that is where the video (link in first comment) begins.

I spent several minutes there with Milo trying to calm him down and prove my friendly intentions, and while he did calm down and come to accept me somewhat, I could not get him to come any closer to me. I wanted him closer, not only so that I could reach him, but also to reduce the stress on the limb. The farther out he went on the limb, the greater the chance that it would break. The limb was on the opposite side of the trunk from where my rope was installed, so my rope was pulling me away from him, and I was having a difficult time getting in a position where I could reach out to Milo without touching the delicate, dead limb.

I tried to lure him to me with a squeeze-tube treat, and he liked that very much but would not come any closer to me to get it. I reassured him with some gentle pets on top of his head, but, again, he would not come closer. There were a few tense moments when his back end slipped off the limb, but he managed to catch himself and get back up on the limb safely. Each time that happened, I heard a small cracking sound in the limb, and the last time that happened, the sound was louder and even more alarming. I placed a hand under the limb to support it and tried to get my cat bag prepared with the other hand. It is very difficult to get the cat bag ready with only one hand, and it was taking too long. In the meantime, Milo slipped once again, and this time, I reached out as far as I could and grabbed him by the scruff with one hand and lifted him under his chest with the other. I placed him on my lap expecting him to be too nervous to be this close to me, so my intention was to get him in the bag before he had a chance to escape. To my surprise, however, he settled very calmly there on my lap, so I decided not to stir the pot by trying to contain him in the bag which was now in disarray. I held him there for a minute, and he remained calm and relaxed.

I don't normally like to take a cat down to the ground on my lap from this height, but, otherwise, all my requirements for a lap rescue were met. He was an indoor/outdoor cat who knew the territory and was very close to home, and there were no threats to him on the ground. I began to descend, but I kept an eye on him and was prepared to stop to bag him if the need arose. The need never arose. He stayed still and calm all the way down until the ground was close enough that he was ready to jump off my lap. He jumped to the ground and ran toward home, and within minutes, he was safe at home eating and ready to resume his routine.

25/04/2026

The last few rescues I did were all tough, and they put me in a temporary low point where I questioned why I was doing this. This happens every now and then, and I don't stay in that low point very long. All I need to do is see the joy and relief in the faces of the cat owners when I give their cat safely back to them, and it also helps to see the post-rescue pictures of the cat at home in its comfortable, soft bed. This time, however, in case that was not enough, the next day, I was presented with a very strong reason why rescuing a cat in a tree is worth the great trouble that it sometimes can be.

It was nearing sunset time when Jackie called me to see if I could rescue her cat, Lucki, who was stuck in a tree in her backyard in Abita Springs, Louisiana. Often, people will type a message to me to ask for a rescue, but it is so much better when they call, not only because the exchange of information goes much faster, but also because I can gather much more information about the situation from the caller's voice. I could hear how worried and concerned Jackie was about her cat, and it was easy to hear that this carried more emotional weight than usual. Jackie was very responsive and answered all my questions without hesitation, but when I gave her my usual speech about the risks involved and the remote possibility that her cat could get hurt, I heard a heavy hesitation in her response. While most people readily understand and accept the risks, Jackie was very reluctant to consider that possibility. She understood that reality, but her somber hesitation gave me the impression that the thought of Lucki getting hurt was not something she could bear to consider.

When I arrived the next morning after Lucki's second night in the tree, I met Jackie, and she led me to the backyard and the tall, skinny Oak tree where Lucki was still perched at the top about 40 feet high. While I studied the situation to determine how best to reach Lucki, I asked Jackie several questions about him, and during the conversation, I incidentally learned that Jackie regularly spends time as a patient in the hospital, a fact that she brushed off as normal. I also noticed that she was attached to some kind of medical equipment which she carried with her in a backpack. Whatever her medical condition, it seemed so wrong and incongruent for such a young, healthy-looking woman, and while I had trouble comprehending the unfairness of her situation, Jackie seemed to have accepted it long ago and moved on into a new normal.

Jackie had been checking on Lucki at regular intervals all during the night, so she didn't get much sleep, and she had spent countless hours trying to coax Lucki down during the day. Her commitment to helping him and her bond with him were very clear. This bond began two and a half years ago when she was driving and noticed someone in a pickup truck in front of her toss a plastic bag out the window. She noticed that the bag moved even after it landed on the ground, so she stopped to investigate as the truck sped away. Inside the bag were four kittens. Three of the kittens were dead, and the fourth one was barely alive but had a paralyzed back end. Jackie was not a cat person, but she took the surviving kitten home and cared for him over the weekend and planned to take him to a veterinarian on Monday. The kitten had no control over his bladder and bowel, but Jackie kept him clean and gave him everything he needed. On Monday, the veterinarian suggested euthanasia, but Jackie refused to consider that. She had poured her heart into caring for this kitten over the weekend, and she was not ready to give up. She thought this kitten had a chance, and she was determined to give him that chance. She took him home, cared for him thoroughly, gave him physical therapy for his legs, and in a few weeks, he was walking on his own. After a few more weeks, he was running through the house. He had suffered some kind of permanent damage that caused his eyes to be constantly dilated, but other than that, he developed into a normal kitten. With her optimistic mindset, Jackie named him Lucki, and these two beings have shared a strong and deep bond for two and a half years.

After learning all this and hearing the emotion in Jackie's voice as she told me the story, I knew this was a high-stakes case, and there was nothing that was going to stop me from rescuing Lucki no matter how much trouble was required. Lucki was at the top junction of the skinny stem of his Oak tree, but there was a slightly larger and taller Tallow tree close to it. I chose to climb the Tallow instead so that I could get level with Lucki and also to prevent my climbing movements from shaking his tree and making him more nervous. I wanted to be as careful as possible with him, so I also chose to climb the tree in a slow, methodical way instead of shooting my line high up in the tree close to him which would likely frighten him.

Despite all the care I put into my approach to Lucki, he was still afraid of me once I got close to him. He wanted to move away from me, but his options there in the top of the tree were very limited, and he was unable to move from his uncomfortable spot. I reassured him as best I could, but he didn't relax until I reached out and gave him some gentle pets. At that point he began to feel safe, and he relaxed even more as I spent a few minutes with him to earn his trust. Even though he is a frequent lap-sitter at home, I had trouble getting him to step on my lap where I had prepared the cat bag. It took the allure of a squeeze-tube treat and some persistence to get him to step fully on my lap, and once he did so, I secured him inside the bag.

Once we reached the ground, Jackie came over to hold Lucki in the bag while I detached it from my harness. She held him close and pressed her face against him and then carried him back to the house while talking sweetly to him. After releasing him inside, she came back out to return the bag to me and thank me. She thanked me repeatedly, but I could sense that she felt that simply saying "thank you" several times was inadequate for expressing the immense gratitude and relief that she felt. That's okay, Jackie. I understand, and I know what this rescue means to you without your having to say it. That is why I do this, and just knowing that your deep bond is restored is all the thanks I want. My reward and joy is knowing that Lucki will be sleeping on or beside you again tonight as he always does because he knows that is the safest and most loving place in the world to be. Trusting me with his welfare was the highest honor and the most meaningful gift that you could have given me.

23/04/2026

Either I am losing my touch or I just happened to have three tough kitties in a row to rescue on consecutive days, or maybe it's both, but regardless, it has been a week where I find myself asking, "Why am I doing this?" Of course, I know the answer, but long, difficult rescues can cause me to forget temporarily and question my ability, and these three kitties caused me to do exactly that.

First was Baby Belle, a three-year-old kitty in Central, Louisiana who is normally just as sweet as her name sounds, but she took great offense at my audacious appearance in her Cypress tree which she had clearly claimed as her own by spending one night there. When I climbed the tree and was close enough to reach out to her, she let me know how outraged she was by growling, hissing, spitting and swatting at my hand. Of course, I backed off, but, over the next hour, I had no luck in reassuring her in any way or calming her demeanor in the slightest. All I got was more growling, hissing, spitting and swatting. The only thing I could do in her case was to go back down to the ground, retrieve my catch-pole, and climb back up to her while hoping she would be more receptive. Unfortunately, she still didn't like me the second time, so I slipped the noose of the catch-poke around her chest, lifted her out of her perch, and released her inside my net. Surprisingly, she handled that indignity without the slightest struggle or complaint. I took her back down and returned her safely to Amy who had been very worried about her. Baby Belle was happy with the end result too, but she would never admit that to me.

The next day, I got a call from Wayne who reported that the unknown cat I rescued in his Baton Rouge backyard tree three months ago had returned and was stuck in the same tree again. The first time I rescued this brown tabby beauty, he was so terrified that he simply froze in fear and let me pet him without any resistance. It was as if he simply surrendered to his fate. This time, when I got too close to him, he moved around to the other side of this large Oak tree and settled in the dense foliage. When I moved over there with him and began to touch him gently, he started growling. He was not going to surrender this time. I tried to work with him, but his disposition did not improve. I went back down to the ground, retrieved my trap, climbed back up, installed the trap in the tree close to him, and left. I had doubts that this ear-tipped boy would go into the trap since he likely was trapped once before, so I was greatly relieved the next morning when Wayne called to say that the cat was indeed inside the trap. I went back over there, climbed up to find him quite calm and settled in the trap, covered the trap, gently lowered the trap to the ground, and released him. Just like the first time, he ran straight for the corner of the yard where he knew there was an opening in the fence for him to escape. He didn't say, "thank you" or "see you later" or anything. He just left without saying a word.

From there, I went to Tangipahoa to rescue Whiskey, a three-year-old, bobtail kitty who had spent one night in a Sweetgum tree by the long driveway to his rural home. Michelle and her children were very worried about him, and the more they tried to lure him down, the higher he went in the tree. By the time I arrived, Whiskey was at the top junction and sounded desperate to get down. I thought this sociable boy would be an easy rescue, but, like the other two kitties before, he was scared of me and actually climbed higher up the top stem. I had trouble getting him to view me in a friendly light, and it didn't help that I created more noise, movement and commotion by struggling to get into an awkward spot to get closer to him. Sweet talk and food had no effect on him, so I had to get even closer so I could reach him and touch him gently. Once I did that, his disposition softened, and he became much more trusting and cooperative. I used a squeeze-tube treat to lure him onto my lap where I had prepared the cat bag. Once he was on my lap, I pulled the bag up around him and secured him inside. His sweet nature appeared at the end, but it just took a long time to get there.

14/04/2026

Cinnamon was one tough cookie. He wasn't spicy, but he was calmly defiant like a statue that could not be budged. He was 60 feet high and far out at the end of a long, arching branch of a very large oak tree where I could not go. I was about 10 feet from him, and we had a long, friendly standoff while I waited for him to come to me and he waited for me to leave. I'm a very patient rescuer because cats often need a long time to see that I am not a threat. I am so patient that the cat owners sometimes get bored and tired and go inside to wait for me to finish. I was patient with Cinnamon too, but Cinnamon was more patient than I was. In the standoff and patience game, Cinnamon won.

Cinnamon is a two-year-old orange tabby boy who was stuck in a tree in Leonville, Louisiana for five nights. Silly me. I thought his rescue would be easy. He was originally stuck on a short, dead stub about 30 feet high in a tree in a long line of fence-line trees between a corn field and a long, hard-packed, gravel driveway. The rescue appeared simple and easy enough. I installed my rope in his tree without any trouble or excessive commotion, and I climbed up to him only to find he wasn't there anymore. I looked all around and could not find him. Krystal, his owner down below, looked for him too and also could not find him. She moved to the other side of the tree line and searched from there while I continued to trace every branch of every nearby tree from my high vantage point. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, I heard Krystal gasp. She found him.

I went back down to the ground to where Krystal was so she could show me where Cinnamon was. Cinnamon had moved from the original tree to a large oak tree and moved as far from me as the tree would allow. He was now twice as high and perched directly over the edge of the hard, gravel driveway and the electrical power lines than ran alongside it. I installed my rope about ten feet from him and climbed up to him. I could not go out any farther toward him, so I did my best to lure him to me. Charm failed. Dry food, no response. Wet food, no response. Churu squeeze tube treat, no response. I held the food at the end of an extendable pole right in front of his face and directly under his nose, and that stone-faced statue did not budge. I turned my back and ignored him. He ignored me too.

Cinnamon was barely within reach of my catch-pole, but it would be impossible to manipulate that long pole through all the dense limbs and foliage between and around us, especially with him at the end of it grabbing at all those limbs. With all that struggle, it would be too easy for him to slip out and fall. Normally, I would set a trap on his limb facing him and leave, but I could not find a place on that branch where a trap would fit, and since he was on one of two branches running roughly parallel to each other, he could easily avoid the trap by walking along the other branch. In hindsight, I should have forced a trap to fit somewhere in there anyway, but at the time, I didn't know what else to do, so I left with the intention of returning the next morning to try again. I hated to disappoint Krystal and her two, sweet, little girls with a failed mission, but I promised I would return the next day and get Cinnamon down. Everything about the situation is likely to be very different the next day, so I was optimistic that I would be successful.

Early the next morning, Krystal opened the door to go out to check on Cinnamon, and Cinnamon was already waiting there at the door and came running inside. We don't know if he climbed down or fell, and Cinnamon, in typical cat-like fashion, doesn't want to talk about it. Regardless, all is well in the household again, and Cinnamon, to everyone's delight, has resumed sleeping in the bed with the girls each night.

04/04/2026

Nala desperately needed help. This six-month-old kitty was stuck at least 40 feet high in a tree at the edge of a wooded area next to a used car lot in Albany, Louisiana, and she cried out constantly and loudly for help. Her family was down below talking to her, but they did not appear to be helping her down at all. She spent the night in the tree, and her family was back there the next morning talking to her again, but they still did not help her down. They walked around, talked to each other, and went out of sight for long periods of time, but they didn't do anything to help her. Nala continued to cry out for help, but no one appeared to care, and, again, she spent another hopeless night in the tree. Nala could not know it, but her family was feeling just as desperate as she was, and they were trying very hard to figure out a way to help her down. I could hear how desperate and worried they were when they called me, and I went over there right away.

Nala was as ready as she could be for a rescue. She watched me with hopeful intensity as I climbed up to her, and she was ready to greet me. No introductions were needed. She just wanted to catch this ride down now before it left without her. I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap, and she stepped fully on my lap without hesitation. I pulled the sides of the bag up around her, and she settled calmly there on my lap purring while I took her back down. Rescues just don't get any easier or cuter than this.

The next rescue was for an unknown cat who appeared in Kristin's tree in Central, Louisiana. Kristin thought the cat might belong to her neighbor, but she wasn't sure and was unable to contact the neighbor to find out. Even if it did not belong to that neighbor, she had seen the cat around for a long time, so it likely belonged to someone in the neighborhood. I always like to find the owner before I rescue the cat so I can return it to its proper home, but in this case, it was likely safe to turn the cat loose so it could return home on its own.

The orange tabby boy turned out to be very sweet. I had to spend a minute to reassure him and lure him to me in the tree, but he came to me and enjoyed all the petting I gave him. Since he was so comfortable with me, I spread the bottom of the cat bag over my lap and encouraged him to step on my lap. He did so, and I secured him inside the bag for the short ride back down to the ground.

While the cat was still in the bag, I checked him for a microchip and found one. We still let him go, but he decided he was enjoying hanging around with us. I packed my gear and left fully expecting him to go back home, but once I got home, I called the microchip company to report the cat. The cat had been reported missing the day before, and the microchip company surprised me by contacting the owner while I waited and connecting us together so we could arrange the reunion. I learned that the cat's name is Cheeto, and he did indeed live just a few houses down from where he was found. Cheeto, however, had not yet returned home, so I gave the owner the address where I found him. Before we could exchange any more information, we somehow got disconnected, and neither of us had the other's contact information. I called the microchip company again, and they left a message for the owner with my contact information. I never heard back from the owner, but Kristin told me that the owner walked over there to her house where she found Cheeto still visiting in the yard with her. They were happily reunited, and Cheeto is safe back at home again. Due to a camera malfunction, I have very few pictures of Cheeto in the tree.

Cat Rescue Guy

26/05/2026

17/05/2026

27/04/2026

25/04/2026

23/04/2026

14/04/2026

04/04/2026

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