I have had my life saved by a Cat.

[Seeing that his audience was comfortably seated he tells MikeB that it is okay for the Imps to sit in the fireplace, but no dancing around please. And after placing some snacks and a couple of large pitchers of good stout ale near where they all could reach them, he begins...]

So, y'all want to know about Sparks, huh? sigh He was a very good friend and companion to a boy who had no friends. Well, this is how we met, and how he saved my life (and my parents house too).

I met Sparks one day after a fire had destroyed a garage a few blocks from our house. Being naturally curious (read, really nosey) I went over the next day (a Saturday) to check it out. I got there at around 10:00 am, and started to look around, when, while passing a bunch of plastic stuff I heard some scratching and a mew ... mew. Real high pitched, and urgent sounding. Having already raised on Cat from infancy, I knew that a very young kitten was making that noise. So I searched around where I thought the noise was coming from, and saw a large plastic tub sitting on the ground, upside down.

The distressed kitten noise was coming from within it. While making Cat noises of my own I lifted up the tub and there he was, a kitten of approximately four months old, singed fur, and thoroughly bedraggled looking. Of course, after I picked him up and crooned to him a little bit, an irate adult appeared on the scene with a "Hey, Kid! Get the hell out of here!". Needless to say this is not how to get on my good side, so stood up and started to leave the area and he stopped me. Wanted to know where I got the kitten. I told him and he tried to grab him from me saying that he was going to kill it! (Apparently, the cause of the fire was because a kitten had shorted some electrical wiring near some open cans of solvent in the garage. The kitten had burst into fire and was thrown from the wiring into the solvent tank). I dogged and ducked around some piles of debris. He said he was going to call the police. I told him stick his head where the sun don't shine. Which, of course, prompted him to go ahead and make the call.

It took the cops about 5 minutes to get there, meanwhile I made myself comfortable and waited. The police came in with lights and sirens, and when they stepped out of their cars (there were two of them) they had their hands on their guns. So, here were two cops in an excited state, one adult who was madder than hell, and little 'ole me sitting on a 55 Gal. drum with a small animal in my arms. At this time the usual crowd appeared and the circus began.

After the police had gotten a statement from the land owner, the senior officer walked over to me and asked what had happened. So I walked him through the whole thing, and let him check the kitten out for himself. About this time the owner of the business across the street came across and also talked to the cops. When all was said and done the cops took the land owner into custody and one of them gave me a lift home. My father was not amused that I was being driven home by a police officer, but one look at the kitten in my arms my father turned to the cop and asked what happened. So, now I had responsibility for another Cat!

[Seeing that the snacks and ale were nearly done he replenishes them and continues....]

It took a while for Sparks (that is what I named the kitten, he was a motley mix of different breeds (a real mongrel) to heal. His fur finally grew in and he gained weight and started to grow in earnest. Dad had taken him and me to the vet for a checkup, Sparks would not let the vet get anywhere near him. So I was called in to help calm him down. Needless to say he was doing a great job of holding off two veterinary nurses and the doctor. So I took a stool and sat by the examination table, propped an elbow up on it and proceeded to speak in Cat to Sparks. After about half a minute, he calmed down and moved over to me and started to purr and to kneed my arm.

The looks of astonishment on the faces of the doctor and nurses was priceless! I asked the doctor what he wanted to do and assisted him in the examination. At no time did Sparks become annoyed with the whole thing and we were done shortly thereafter.

As we were leaving, a very large dog (first time I had ever seen a Great Dane) with her owner was entering. The dog, taking note that a small Cat was within reach, (you could see the look of "Oooo! Lunch!!!" in her eyes) proceeded to growl, bark, and tried to lunge at the hapless Cat and it's owner. The dogs owner was yanked off of her feet and dragged along behind the dog for a little ways. The dog stopped with it's nose in Sparks face, growling and barking for all it's worth. Sparks calmly stretched his neck out a little bit and bit the dog on the nose HARD ! The dog squealed in pain (like it had been hit by a truck) and dove for the seats next to the wall and proceeded to try to get under them (these seats were occupied at the time), dragging her owner with her.

Sparks and I continued on out to the car and waited for Dad. When he came out he had this strange grin on his face. When he got into the car he started to chuckle. By the time we got home he was laughing so hard he was having problems steering the car. It still took him several minutes to calm down enough to tell Mom all that had happened. Sparks got a real nice dinner that night.

Time passes and we all had great fun. Sparks was worth his weight in Diamonds. Before, Mom could never get a proper garden going because the birds would always dig up and eat the seeds. Rats and mice would get in to just about everything. But once Sparks was on the scene, all of that stopped. Soon we had no mice or rats. The birds found that it was extremely unhealthy around our house.

Sparks for some reason hated Crows. We used to get huge flocks of Crows every summer. One summer Sparks killed over a hundred Crows. And left them on our back porch. Mom was not amused, but she never complained either. The next summer Sparks was again devastating the Crow population, and this time Mom tasked me with disposing of the carcasses. I only had to do this a few times as Sparks caught on and started burring them himself!

But one night I was up late building a model, once I had finished with it and cleaned up I got out my gun cleaning kit and proceeded to clean my rifle and revolver (Dad and I were going to go to the rifle range the next day). After I finished up and disposed of the rags and patches in my trash can I went to bed. I normally sleep with the windows open as I can not stand a closed up room. Plus the screen at this time was off (I needed some screen to sift some soil to remove the rocks). Around six in the morning I was very rudely awakened (I sleep like the dead, or so my Mom says) by Sparks. He had apparently gotten up on the window sill and started to yowl and make all sorts of noise (as related to me by my parents later).

Since that was not having any effect on me, he leaped on to my back with all claws showing! Needless to say I woke up! Screaming! And then I started to cough real hard as there was smoke in my bedroom. I saw that the smoke was coming from the waste basket next to my desk. I got up, took the offending item to the bathroom (which is right next to my room) and tossed it into the shower. At this point whatever was causing the smoke burst into flames. I turned on the water and then turned the knob over to shower and flooded the tub with water. Once the fire was out I turned around and there were my parents, and my brother and sister, staring at me.

At this point I realized I was standing in front of everyone .... nude. My sister was delighted, my mother had an interesting look on her face, my brother was shocked, and my dad had this really dry look (the gotcha kind). I shook my head and went to my room (with sister tagging along) and put on a pair of cutoffs. Much to my sisters annoyance (at least that is what I think she meant by saying "Darn!").

Mom asked why I was bleeding, I quickly looked over myself and said "Where?". Mom indicated that my back was bleeding, so she got some paper towels and proceeded to staunch the blood. After she cleaned me up it was quite clear what had caused the wounds. Four perfect sets of claw marks. After making sure that the items in the waste basket were really soaked, Dad took me to the hospital, as the wounds were not closing up. The doctor fixed the problem, and after being given the reason I had these particular wounds he released me. If it were not for Sparks clawing me to wake me up I would have died in that fire, and the fire most likely would have spread to the rest of the house. When Dad and I got back from the hospital, Sparks greeted me at the door, stropping my legs and performing head buts on my ankles. I picked him up and gave him a long cozy hug and thanked him properly for what he did.

[Seeing that the snacks have pulled another vanishing act, and that the pitchers of ale were low, I again replenish them. And pouring a stein for myself, I finish the story of Sparks the Cat....]

Two months after he saved my life, Sparks was out in front of our house chasing something that moved very fast. According to our neighbor, whatever it was darted across the street, and made it, Sparks did not. We buried him under the miniature Orange tree in the backyard where he loved to take shade as he kept watch over his domain. He was laid to rest with his favorite toy and a ball of yarn that he had got from Mom the year before (Mom had hidden a sprig of catnip in it). We had made up a little tombstone for him giving his name and dates of birth and death, and a message that we would always love him, and miss him.

[Lifting my stein .... and in a somewhat horse voice ....]

Here is to you old friend, sleep well ....

And that my friends is the story of my Cat Sparks. A good friend. One who is, and always will be, missed.

(To this date, a certain house on Chinook Lane in San Jose, California, still has no problems with birds raiding the garden for seeds, no mice or rats try to occupy the area, nor do Crows go anywhere near. The new owners of the house were told of Sparks when they noticed the little grave in the backyard. And they have maintained the site for their own reasons. My family recently visited his little grave, in order to place a porcelain figure of him on the cement cover of the grave, it was made by a friend of mine after he saw a picture of him sleeping, head resting on his toy.)

Copyright © Michael Akers