This Is Why I Hate Cats.

Today was just great. What with my house nearly burning down and all.

I went out to go grocery shopping earlier, taking Little One with me. My grandmother was still here at the house. So I go, get the shopping done, swing by and check the mail, and then head home. On the way up the stairs I thought to myself, "Something smells like burning."

Sure enough I open the front door and smoke billows out at me. My grandmother is sitting on the couch, oblivious.

"What the hell is burning?!" I shriek.
"Burning? Nothing's burning." says Grandma.

So I bundle Little One out onto the patio and go rampaging around the house. Stove? No. Toaster? No. Microwave? Nope. Cigarette burning on the floor? Don't see one.

Finally I get to my room and spot the source of the problem. Turns out while I was gone that damn idiot of a cat had decided it would be fun to play with the heat light on top of my snake's cage. He had knocked it off onto the floor. Now these lights aren't like regular light bulbs. They get HOT. You know how hot those halogen lights they use in shops or for fishing get? Comparable to that. And the motherfucker's sitting right on the floor.

So, I kick it away, run into the kitchen and fill up a pitcher with water, run back down the hall, douse the smoldering ruin of carpet, and survey the damage. It had burned a hole six inches across through the carpet, the padding, and was charring the wood underneath. How on God's green earth the floor didn't burst into flames I'll never know. I suspect it would have if I'd been gone any longer.

And grandma didn't realize anything was wrong.

This is why she lives with me know. This isn't the first fire incident she's had. She's been known to leave pots of food burning to death on the stove and light ashtrays on fire when putting out a cigarette on the paper towel she inexplicably had in it.

So, I've spent the last three hours sitting outside with the kiddo while the house airs out. And it smells like motherfucking burned carpet in my room now. And I have a huge, charred hole in the floor that I do not know how to explain to the apartment manager. And the cat wisely refuses to emerge from beneath the bed because he knows I have it in for him.

What a life.