Apropos of Nothing

This has been stuck in my head:

Flaming Cat

It's a well-known fact that our orange and white cat's tail is completely without feeling thanks to some unknown past injury. (It may or may not have been due to Milo's stint with the Canadian Special Forces before he came to live with us. Prior to life at the SPCA, who's to say what a cat gets up to?)

That fact has saved him some pretty painful moments, like the times I've stepped on his tail or his tail has been caught in a door. But that complete numbness -- the kind of numb that many people pay loads of money to attain at the bar -- is a liability when it comes to something like fire.

Not some kind of metaphorical fire, but actual fire.

A bit of a cold snap in these parts means the wood stove is getting a workout. As any cat owner will tell you, a heat source means a curled up feline somewhere nearby. In the absence of a sunny spot, Milo took up a location a little too close to the wood stove that's supplying the majority of the heat for the house and managed to singe off some hair on his tail.

As my wife described it to me over the phone, "There was this weird burning smell all of the sudden and Milo your tail's on fire!"

Lucky for him, it's barely noticeable. Lucky for us, his tail didn't burst into flames. That's the kind of thing that would get a cat moving even if it he can't feel his tail. And you just know he'd make a beeline for a couch or bed to hide under. I briefly imagined describing a claim to our insurance company:

"Well, the cat was on fire, because he has no feeling in his tail, and then the bed was on fire and, well, here we are now standing in front of a smouldering ruin."

Not sure if the incident has taught him anything but he's not the only one missing the warmer weather.