It is cold here. All there is to it. 17* overnight, 23* right now. The house is cold, there is deep snow outside. I went to bed with hat and gloves.
Clemmy had a bad case of cabin fever at about 1:30, 2:00 last night, tearing around the house, prrrOWing like crazy. I finally got up with him, and he led me to the front door. I told him he didn't want to go out, but would he believe me?
So I opened the door. He looked, paused. Went out anyway. With only about 1/4" of snow on the porch, he felt brave. Went down the two steps, and it's more like an inch. But he's still tough. A foot to the left is the garden area. He went over there, and sunk to his belly!
Not to be deterred, he kept taking steps. Sinking. Stepping. Sinking. Then he'd gingerly put a paw out, seeing if the snow would support him. Seemed to. Until he put more weight on it. SINK! He finally leaped to the porch again. Landed on his belly and had to scramble up.
"I told you! Now come on in."
And he takes off, trotting down the walk.
So I closed the door against the 19* air. Waited a couple, three minutes, opened the door. "Come on in."
And in he ran!
Back to bed for me, piles of blankets up to my ears, shivering myself warm.
Half an hour later, "PrrrrrrOW!" and tearing around the room again. Tried to ignore it for a bit, but no chance.
So up I get with Clemmy AGAIN (worse than an infant!) and he leads me to the front door again. I open the door. He started through, and then stopped. Looked so confused, like, "It's still here?!?!?"
That was the last I heard from him until he came in for his morning cuddles