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I thought I was unshockable.
After 22 years as a landlord, I believed I’d seen pretty much everything. It appears not.
Yesterday, a cat tried to burn down my flat. And no, I’m not joking, lying or hallucinating.
It was a typical day and I was dealing with some admin when I noticed my phone was flashing, alerting me there were a series of voice notes from the block management agent where I own a flat. Listening to the messages, I felt my heart fill with terror.
“The neighbours have reported your fire alarm going off and smoke is seeping out of your windows. What’s going on? Where’s your tenant? Is everything okay?”
The agent had left me the neighbour’s telephone number but I couldn’t get through. I called the tenant, who was at work, saying they’d go to the flat immediately.
Luckily for us, the neighbours acted fast. Not only did they call the block management to inform them of the incident, but they also called the fire brigade, who broke down the flat door to gain access.
In the meantime, while I was waiting to hear what had happened, I speculated about the causes. I knew the tenant didn’t smoke and I have an outright ban on the use of candles and tealights (following a different fire some years ago). I knew the electrics were safe and in good condition because, as it happens, the latest Electrical Condition Report had only been carried out the previous month.
As I wandered around my own property looking at various electrical appliances and outlets, I pondered them with suspicion. Wasn’t it a fridge-freezer that caused the Grenfell tragedy?
Then a random thought struck me: I gave permission late last year for the tenant to get a kitten.
I mentioned this to my partner, who laughed at me. “What, you think the cat’s taken up smoking?”
As it turns out, my suspicions were not far off.
As bizarre as it sounds, this is what happened. The cat had climbed on the cooker and turned all of the knobs and rings on and after several hours the 18-month-old cooker started to melt.
Even my friend thought I was making it up. “What a ridiculous excuse for forgetting to turn the oven off before you go to work,” she laughed.
I called a landlord friend of mine to see what they thought.
“Oh, something similar happened to me years ago. The tenants weren’t meant to have a dog, said they were ‘looking after it for a friend’. They left some dog biscuits on the hob and the dog managed to switch the cooker on while trying to reach the biscuits.”
Intrigued, I did some research. I’ve watched in-home security videos of dogs eating portable batteries that can easily explode (I’ve since learned lithium is highly reactive with water). And I’ve also learned insurers – because of the unpredictable nature of pets – load your insurance premium by at least 10pc.