The dangerous lives of cats.

This post has a happy ending. I promise.

The Jesus Town Times has been plastered with stories of the fire I posted on the other day. This evening, a special article was dedicated to the family's cat, which I've interspersed with info from my brother-in-law for this post. Apparently when the fire was burning, the family kept directing firefighters to where they thought the cat would be hiding. But with the explosions and backdrafts, they were unable to keep searching, and the family was heartbroken.

Cut to a day later when the family and the firefighters entered the house to salvage some items. While rummaging through a bedroom, someone stumbled upon the cat. She had chewed a hole into the bottom of the box springs and crawled up into it. And survived. When they pulled her out, her whiskers and eyeleashes had been burnt off, but other than that, she was in great shape. And the family was pleased.

The family has said that they're renaming the cat. She's now called 2.5. They said this is because they figured that's how many of her 9 lives she has left since they're certain she used at least 6 of them in the fire.