Cat on Fire

CatOnFireI wish I was making this story up.

It was a Sunday night. I’d baked potatoes in the oven. When I do this, I roll them in olive oil and sea salt and then wrap them in foil. I put a pan covered in foil in the oven to catch the drippings but invariably, it leaves a stench behind. We have a small house. So when something in the oven is stinky, it stinks up the whole house. (However, the potatoes were DELISH.)

Now. Just to give you some idea of the setup. We have an open concept living/dining/kitchen. There’s a bar where the stove/oven is and a small walkway between that and the sofa. Husband was sitting on the sofa watching Sunday night football. And I decide I’m going to light some candles to get rid of the smell.

Dexter the Cat has a bed which he’s a tad too big for. He’s fat but he’s losing weight. The candles are on the bar area right above him. He’s happily sleeping in his bed when I grab the box of matches. I strike the match but the stupid thing breaks in half. I watch the match end – as if in slow motion – fall toward the cat lighting in midair.

Two things cross my mind in about 2.3 seconds.

First: “Aw hell the match broke.”

Second: “OH SHIT the match lit!”

CatonFire-NO

As the match lands on the cat in a POOF, I shout “KITTY KITTY KITTY!!” as he leaps from his bed about the same time I reach down to extinguish the small flame. And I’m wondering if the damn cat bed is going to ignite. Because the match has landed where he was. I’m also wondering if I need to tell Husband to get the fire extinguisher.

At this point, I have visions of the cat on fire (which he’s not) running through the house. Can you imagine THAT call to 911? “Um, yes, I set my cat on fire and now the whole house is in flames.” Wonder if the fire marshal would investigate that one?

Anyway, the cat is sitting a few feet away. He meows at me. The fire is out. And I’m laughing hysterically.

That’s when the husband turns his head and says, “What are you DOING back there?” Because, naturally, he saw NONE of this happening. Figures.

But I’m laughing too hard to even breathe. I finally catch my breath and tell him what happened. He merely shakes his head. “Only you.”

Hey I don’t know how this stuff happens to me. Really.

By the way, the cat was TOTALLY FINE. He didn’t even have any singed fur. Please don’t send PETA after me.

By Michelle

I wish you all could be inside my head. The conversation is sparkling.