The night before the fire Mike Kresky was driving home when he had a premonition. "Be careful," a voice inside said, "something is in the road." No sooner had he heard the warning when a black cat appeared and then disappeared, right under his tire. He panicked. "I killed a cat," he thought, "How do I right this? A cat for a cat?" Perhaps that haunting notion would have drifted back to his subconscious were it not for the Tea Fire the following day. He was examining a mummified harvest mouse when his friend alerted him to the glowing hillside. He sat himself down for 30 seconds to think, then decided to pack as if for a long camping trip. Tent, sleeping bag, cook stove, good shoes, warm clothes, and his prized guidebook collection. He grabbed all the crates and coolers under the house and began to load them up. He said he could feel the neighbors on the mountain moving with necessity and alarm. If he looked at the fire, the fright was overwhelming. If he didn't look, he could stay calm. The sky was flashlight orange and the sound of explosions, sirens and screeching flames was all around them. The last thing Mike grabbed was his cat. The roads were manic and at one frenzied curve on his descent, the cat jumped out and took off into the brush. Mike stopped the car and scanned frantically for eye-shine. The cops were yelling at him to continue on. So he got back in the car, shut the door, and drove to safety. He has not given up on finding his cat when he's allowed to return. Perhaps the ordeal itself has been enough karmic retribution. Days later, on no sleep and little food, his mind is still swarming with the details, the "this and that" of what was lost. Mike is, among other things, an artist. He had recently brought a large collection of paintings home from a storage space to ready them for a show. They all burned. But he knows anyone who lives in the dry canyons takes a chance. "The mountain is supposed to burn every ten years," he said, "not every 60. We've been lucky." He will allow for grieving, and then he will move on. His resonant feeling is gratitude, it has to be.