Here's how my Demon-Cat earned his name. He was about six weeks old and had the temporary name of Spooky. I knew it wouldn't stick... pets tend to earn their own names in our house. After this incident, we decided that our cute new kitty was actually a demon in disguise!

I was getting up for work one morning and stumbling around the house on auto-pilot. I had the same routine everyday:

1.) Turn off the alarm clock.
2.) Stumble across the hall and start my bath water.
3.) Trudge down stairs to put on the kettle for my morning tea...

... all of this without turning on a light and barely opening my eyes.

As I stepped onto the top stair. I felt this tiny, warm, furry little body under my foot. There was a puddle of sleeping kitten right where my heel would come down, and my left foot was already raised for the next step. I stood there, teetering on my tip-toes of my right foot, trying to get my balance. I knew that if I put my right heel down, I would crush that tiny kitten, but I couldn't seem to find a place to put down my left foot. As I stood there, that little beast decided to wake up and do what all cats do after a good nap... He stretched and rolled over. That was all it took to upset my precarious balance and my right foot slipped off the edge of the stair.

I briefly considered grabbing the banister, but images of dislocated shoulders or broken arms squelched that idea. In that brief moment of clarity, I figured that there was no way to keep from falling down the stairs so my best bet was to make it a controlled fall. I was terrified of tumbling down....seemed like there was a greater possibility of getting hurt that way. I let out a strangled yelp, quickly followed by a loud "Oh!!" as my backside hit the stair right where the kitten *had* been. Then I did what seemed like the only logical thing to do. I put my arms across my chest, hands on the opposite shoulders, kept my body as straight as possible, pointed my feet and kept my legs as close together as I could manage. I shot down those stairs like one of those guys on the luge in the Winter Olympics. I hit the floor at the bottom and laid there in a crumpled, whimpering heap, almost afraid to move. Rob was at my side in moments to make sure I was okay... a quick inventory showed there were no major injuries. Just a few bumps and bruises.

I did have to call in sick to work though....I couldn't stand to put clothes on over the glorious case of rug burn that I had all the way from the backs of my knees up to the tops of my shoulders......Oh, did I forget to mention that I was completely naked when I went down the stairs!!

Copyright © Kathy Hyle
April 21, 2002