It was 19°F when I got up this morning. Since the sun was already up I knew it had been colder during the night. I was worried that our outdoor cat, Forrest, was too chilly last night. Because of a midnight visit from the neighborhood raccoon I knew he had been driven from his warm bed at the bleakest hour of the night. However, when I checked, there he sat in his heated little hut. He was fine. His water was almost frozen solid. Mixed guilt leads me to cater to what (I think) he needs. When the guilt is the strongest, I warm up his 1/2 can of Weruva Asian Fusion – with tuna and shirasu – in aspic, then bring him in for a little pet. With a full belly and weird little burps, he purred yet never quite relaxed – always just a little stiff. Ever since we rescued him as a kitten from the dumpster ten years ago, I’ve called him our cardboard kitty. He is a good cat – he does his job with the rodents and shares his food (arghh…) with Rocky (or Rockina?) the raccoon. Never a dull moment.

Forrest... warm.

water sans bowl