A Cat, Two Dogs and a Culvert

Wednesday night we took the dogs to the south farm to chase Sandhill Cranes because they are eating all the corn again.  Jasmine crawled through a long culvert and eventually came out the other end.  Boyd prophetically stated that he shouldn't have ever taught her to do that because one of these times she would get stuck, which brings us to Thursday morning.  I took the trash down the lane like every week and this time Jasmine decided to crawl in the culvert closest to the road. I saw her go in and thought I would just get her on my way back.   She wouldn't come out, so I climbed down off the road and bent down to yell in the culvert.  Well, in a smaller, broken pipe laying to the side was a cat.  It was scared of me and ran into the big culvert with Jasmine.  I knew this couldn't end well.  I thought if I walked away the cat would run back out before Jasmine, who must have had her back to the cat, would notice.  My plan worked just fine.  Out came the cat, but what I didn't count on was Buddy paying attention to all of this.  He was off like a flash after the cat and of course, Jasmine has made it out of the culvert and is joining in the fray.  I admit I am fat and slow, but nobody can catch that Border Collie on his worst day.  He had the cat and was shaking it by the time I got there.  I grabbed Buddy by the collar and tried to reach for Jasmine as the cat went between my legs and was off.  At least it could run.  I missed Jasmine, who then caught the cat and was doing who knows what.  The cat got away and ran into the culvert closest to the house.  This culvert seems to be tapered.  Anyway, one end is bigger than the other.  Jasmine followed right behind. Now, you know, while all this is going on and I am trying to stop everyone, I am screaming hysterically.  I thought the whole neighborhood should of heard me, but no one came to my rescue.  So, while I am hanging on to Buddy and Jasmine and the cat are in the culvert, I call Boyd.  I scream in the phone that the dogs are killing a cat.  He says "OK" and I think he will come out and help.  No, a minute passes and then phone rings again.  I answer and it is Boyd wanting more details.  He says he can't understand me and that I need to calm down.  I manage to say, "Come HELP me!"  Out he come in his steel-toed boots and his underwear.  I am sitting in the road, holding tightly to my dog, crying hysterically and now I am yelling, "Go put some clothes on!"  I was just certain the school bus full of kids would come down the road and see him in his underwear and me in the road having an hysterical fit.  Anyway, I told him I was going to lock up Buddy and that Jasmine was stuck in the culvert and may or may not have killed the cat.  He went back in the house, put on some clothes and we met at the culvert.  He could see the cat, who was about a foot in front of the dog, but the dog couldn't go any further.  She was stuck!  Boyd is now pacing up and down the width of the road trying to figure out how he can break a hole through the road and into the pipe to dig out my dog.  I went to the big end of the culvert and started coaxing Jasmine out.  I wanted to yell, "I'm going to kill you!", but I talked to her in a sweet voice.  I could hear her whining and moaning.  I figured even if she wasn't stuck she would never leave the cat.  After a few moments I could hear scratching on the cement pipe and she started backing out.  When she got out we hauled her to her pen and that was that.   I, however, was covered in cat hair, dog hair, slobber and dirt. This is on the morning of my classes' wax museum and I told the students I would be early.  As I am wiping off my pants with a washrag because I didn't have time to change, I had the following conversation with Boyd. 
ME: "How often do I call you screaming hysterically?"
HIM: "Rarely"
ME: "So you need to call back for clarification?  Why didn't you just come running?"
HIM: "Uh..."
The cat stayed in the culvert for a long time, Boyd offered it a can of tuna fish and at some point, it left.  I hope it is fine.  Boyd wanted to keep it.  That would be fine with me, but how stupid would that cat be to choose to live on this farm after what it just went through?