Cats saved my life!
I'm not going to be too melodramatic about this, but my Mom's cat and, in different way, one of my own, saved my life last night. I was doing a pot roast, actually half of one because I was cooking for just me, and I felt it was cooking too quickly. I turned down the temp on my 1920s gas oven to the min, stuck the braiser back in the oven, and went back to the couch and the TV with the timer set on one hour. I fell asleep. For whatever reason—oven door closed too fast, spilled liquid, I don't know—the flame went out. I woke up to my Mom's visiting cat, Freddie, batting my face and my own cat, Blurr, trying to stuff her face under my feet. I smelled the gas, but was groggy. Thankfully, I remembered not to touch anything electric. I opened all the windows and doors--all cats immediately went with noses to the outdoors--swept the propane out, and wound up with nothing worse than a crashing headache. (Where's the headache smiley?) The headache continues, but now it's more from me beating myself over the head. My mother, though very concerned at the time, is getting lots of mileage in Hawaii (that's why her cats are here) about how smart her Freddie is!
"To be broke is not a disgrace, it is only a catastrophe." -- Nero Wolfe/Rex Stout