I’m actually barely exaggerating. As I was walking home from the ferry last night, my wife turned on the oven to get ready for dinner. A few minutes later, she heard one of our cats, Max, making some strange sounds of distress in the kitchen. She went in to check things out and found a cloud of smoke and sparks shooting out of the stove. She handled it. But were it not for Max, things surely would have gotten out of hand. Atta boy, Max.In other animal-related news … the family of raccoons — Rocky, Rodger, Rodney, Rachel — that makes its home in the brambles next to my house has expanded to include quadruplets. No, I don’t feed them. Like feeding seagulls, setting out food for these animals should be a felony.You can see where the raccoons, feral cats, and squirrels have worn a path into the left side of the backyard.