It snowed last night. Big time. At 2:00 a.m. as I was getting ready for bed, I got a wild hair and decided to see if I could get a picture of snowflakes in the dark through the kitchen window.
It didn't work at all, so I cracked the back door.
A furry little streak of lightning shot by me at ankle level.
"Free at last, free at last!" she cried. And she wouldn't come back in.
I asked her politely. I rattled her food dish at her. I begged her. I threatened her.
"Don't you hear those coyotes howling up the hill? Don't you know that you'd just be a tasty little midnight snack to them? They'd chomp your bones and floss their teeth on your fur!"
Nothing worked. She laughed at me from under the picnic table.
I finally wadded out into the snow in my jammies, set the cat door on in-only and went to bed to wait.
It was 3:00 before she finally got cold enough to come in and warm her soggy feet on me.
Remind me again why it is I have cats...