Dinner is alsoways when the most interesting family discussions occur. Over supper this evening, SnarkGirl asked if pets could be baptized. This led to Wee Ginger Beastie asking if Bitey could be baptized.
"I catches him! We stuffs him in a pillowcase and takes him to Monsignor! He blesses him!" (To get the full effect, you have to imagine a toddler pantomiming grabbing a cat as large as she is, cramming it into a sack, and dragging it around. It helps of you realize that she is forever stuffing him into sacks, bags, baby clothes and boxes.)
Both were disappointed with the answer: you can take pets to church to be blessed on the Feast of St. Francis, but no baptism for cats.
Neither of my daughters was impressed with my expanded opinion: I think that if you tried to baptize a cat, it would probably burst into flame as soon as it touched the holy water font. Cats are pure, concentrated, fur-covered evil. Satan's oven mitts, one and all. I'd be surprised if they could pass the threshold of a church without spontaneously combusting.
The mental image of our grandfatherly, rather portly Monsignor fishing around in a wildly thrashing, yowling pillowcase, hauling out Bitezilla by the tail and dunking him, teabag-style, into a marble font...only to be left holding a black furry tail, as the rest of the cat had gone POOF!...
That's gonna stick with me.