Oliver The Cat Who Saved Christmas

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Dedicated to the memories of Misty, Oscar, and Charlie.

I was their human, and their willing servant.

The worst night of my entire nine lives started with some leftover fish. You might think that was a bit strange, little kitten. After all, we cats all love fish, don’t we, and I often used to get leftovers, living in a pub where they made something called bar meals for the people who came in. It wasn’t actually the fish I had that night that was the problem. It was what came afterwards, when I’d gone back to my favourite chair by the fireplace and fallen asleep.

Now, stop jumping around trying to catch that fly, if you want me to tell you the story. It’s a long story for a little kitten like you, and a bit frightening in places, but you might learn something from it if you settle down and pay attention. That’s better.

Where was I? Oh yes. Asleep on my chair. Well, I woke up very suddenly when it was dark outside – and there was a horrible smell in the pub, and something tickling my nose and throat. I knew straight away it was smoke, because sometimes when my human, George, lit the fire in the bar to make it nice and cosy on a cold evening, it gave off the same kind of smell. But when he did that, the smoke went up the chimney, not into the room like this. I blinked for a few minutes, trying to see what was going on. Of course, my night vision is normally excellent, but the smoke was making my eyes sore. Within a few minutes I was starting to cough and choke because it had started going down my throat too, when I did the normal stretching and yawning thing we have to do when we wake up. And then I saw them – big orange flames leaping up the curtains, and sparks flying onto the nearby chairs.

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