Here is a story from my childhood that never really happened. I first learned about it when I met a girl at a Ricks College dance who was taking physics from Dad. As we were dancing, she remarked, "I heard about your cat."

"Our what?" I asked. "We never had a cat."

"You know, Frank the Cat," and she gave me a synopsis. When I got home, Dad told me the full story.

It seems Frank had a habit of jumping into the freezer when we opened the door, so we had to watch for him. One day he slipped in unnoticed, and by the time we found him, he was frozen solid. We kids were devastated, of course, crying and wailing over our lost friend.

Then Dad had an idea. We found some antifreeze, pried open the jaws, and poured it in. That had no effect, so we got paint thinner and gasoline and lighter fluid and forced it all down the poor creature's gullet. Suddenly Frank's eyes shot open and he came alive with a shriek, burst out of our arms, and took off down the hall. Bedlam ensued, Frank meowing a terrific "RRRRAAAAaaaarrrrr!" and tearing around the house, the Thomson kids chasing the cat, and Mom and Dad chasing the kids. Suddenly, Frank stopped cold in his tracks and fell over dead.

At this point, Dad turns back to the chalkboard and resumes his lecture, leaving the class more than a little bewildered. Ultimately, one of the students can't help interrupting and raises his or her hand.

"What happened to Frank?"

"Oh," Dad explains, "He ran out of gas."

Dad often included family stories - even a few true ones - in illustrating physics principles, and he would often brag about patents or missions or awards, but he never called us his kids. We were always "The Troops." If I were to meet a former student, I would usually get, "Oh. You're one of the troops."

It was an interesting experience meeting girls who had been in Dad's class while I was at Ricks. It gave me a lot of extra points, since he was a popular teacher, but the girls would usually note how much they enjoyed the class and add that they got a "C." I can only imagine what grade he gave the girl at the dance who thought Frank was real. I once complained to Dad that he was ruining my social life by giving a "C" to all these cute girls, but I had to admit it's impressive that they could get a poor grade and still speak highly of the class.

In case you're still wondering, as we were growing up, we had a dog (Casey), two rabbits (Romeo and Juliet), a horse (Pixie), four chipmunks, a chamelion, a goldfish, some baby chicks, and a turtle, but never a cat, and especially not a cat named Frank.