It snowed last night, so a couple of inches of the white stuff cover our deck.
There's a wet-but-clear path right along the house, though.

Well, I opened the back door and encouraged Oscar to take a look.  The idea
was, she would take one step onto the soggy wet mat and retreat.  I could give
her the illusion of freedom without the actuality, at the same time reminding
her of how bad and nasty the Out is.  Clever me!

Of course, nothing of the sort happened.  For the first time ever, she took a
step onto a wet surface and ... kept going.  She slowly walked along the clear
path, and I quickly began to worry.  I was wearing socks; Eric was barefoot
and made it clear that if anyone chased down Oscar, it would be me.  (The last
time she explored the Out, she got to the edge of the deck, disappeared under
it, and wouldn't come back for a while, until suddenly she blazed back into
the house at the speed of light.  We think she must have seen a scary spider
=P )  Calling to Oscar had the expected result: no response whatsoever.  Then
Eric suggested treats.  Of course!  She always materializes from nowhere when
I shake the can of treats.  Except, apparently, when she's outside and can't
be bothered.  She's clearly considering jumping into the rose bushes, and from
there no doubt to the underside of the deck.  I shake the can even more
frantically and call "Oscar!  Oscar!" in my best attempt at a non-frantic
voice.  She ignores me.

And then, for no apparent reason, she turns around and, suddenly, she notices
the can.  The can I've been rattling all the while.  I see the part of her
brain dedicated to snacky things take control, and she trots in leisurely
fashion back into the house, where I reward her with catnip-laced goodies.

Damn cats.