We have a nice dusting of new snow (mebbe half an inch) tonight in
Minnesota. I took Louis the Bengal outside on his leash, and he
scrupulously avoided even going near it. He found all the dry spots
under the porch and the second-floor roof. Tiger frantically pawed at
the picture window. Louis cowed back to the front door, wondering why
it didn't open back inside so easily...

Then I took Tiger (Maine-Coon-ish mutt) outside. He wasted no time in
trotting right out into the snow, and seemed invigorated by the cold.
We ranged far afield from the security of the front door, and he
trotted through the snow as if it were grass. His paw-prints traced a
huge path on our property.

He was truly beautiful decked in the huge snowflakes visiting our
yard. I can't properly express how purely right it seemed to see him
wearing a sparkle of snowflakes on top of his thick fur coat.

I've often marvelled at the huge tufts of fur on his paws, but this
was the first winter he's taken a leash and gotten outside, and he
padded through the snow as if on snowshoes.

We came back inside, and instead of being envious Louis was huddled by
the heating vent.

During this summer's sweltering heat, Louis will revel in his treks in
the beating sun, imagining himself in the steaming forests of
southeast asia, though he's never been there himself. Meanwhile, Tiger
will huddle in the cool basement or by the air conditioning vents.

Tomorrow Henry goes out to his first winter, and I'm expecting that
he too will joyfully rediscover a thing he's actually never
experienced.

I do love my cats. =)

BLink