I Find a Warm Place

The humans have attempted to force me outside. This requires them to open both inside and outside doors, lift me (not easily accomplished), and toss me inelegantly out into the snow. They had the temerity to mention the cat next door, Foxy, a low creature but who looks very much like me. This is his only redeeming feature. Apparently Foxy likes to sit on the plowed driveway. The humans seem to believe that because Foxy is stupid enough to enjoy this, I should, too.

They do not appreciate my tender and sensitive feet or my unprotected ears. In any event, on the few occasions when they have succeeded in ejecting me from the house, I have merely remained by the door, crying in my most piteous voice. They relent quickly.

It is cold. The humans have a system for heating the house that they carefully monitor, keeping the temperature barely tolerable, even for a cat with my ample weight and coat. So I searched throughout the house to find a warm spot and was clever enough to locate the best possible place.

Mistress had constructed a bed for me near hers. It lies between a very hot thing -- they call it a radiator -- and a piece of furniture. However, at first the bed smelled like another cat. I suspect that she simply reused the bedding that had once belonged to the inferior felines who lived here before I moved to this place. At first I refused to use the bed. But then mistress placed two lovely wool sweaters on top of the bed. This dimished the smell of the unknown beast to the point where I could rest upon the sweaters. And now my smell -- far superior to that of the previous feline -- dominates the air around my bed. I like to rest here of an afternoon or evening, when the humans are at home and have increased the amount of heat produced by their system, making the radiator by my bed wonderfully warm.