My cat was lying on the bed in my room. I had no idea how old she was; she was a fully-grown stray when I got her. One thing was for sure, though: she was getting on in years. All she really wanted to do these days was lie around, eat, and occasionally use the litterbox.

“C’mere, kitty,” I said, picking her up and carrying her into the living room. She grumbled, but didn’t squirm. I carried her over to the DVD player, pressed her head against the slot, and shoop! it pulled her right out of my hands. A confused “Mrow?” issued from the machine. Then I picked up the remote and hit “Play”—and there was my cat sitting there on the TV screen, placidly licking herself.

I hit “rewind” and the cat started moving in jerky fast motion, going backward. I stabbed the button a few more times to increase the speed, and then I noticed something odd—the orange blur on the screen seemed to be getting smaller. I hit “Stop” and “Eject”—and the DVD player spat out a small, confused-looking orange kitten.