Days of Cold and Cats

It snowed last night. It didn't snow enough to cover the ground or cause a lot of problems, but it was still very odd to see snow in November. Rowan clawed her way up onto my shoulder and stayed there, shivering, for the better part of an hour. The stove was on, so I think a lot of that was just drama on her part. She can be very dramatic.  She's sitting on my lap right now, basically preventing me from working on the afghan. I'm pretty sure she's aware she's preventing me, because she's purring about it.

Tinkerbell is staying mostly on my roommate's bed, but as this is the coldest room in the house, she's been making more trips out into the rest of the area. She never sits in the living room with us, but she'll sit on the outskirts of it. Sometimes she'll go in my room and hang out by the door that leads into where we're sitting. Usually when she's in there, she glares at me.

As for Rhiannon, well . . . she's crazy. Her days are usually spent buried under a pile of blankets on the couch. When my roommate sits down by her, she hisses. When he pets her, she hisses. When she comes out from the blankets and sees us, she hisses. Today, she was behind the couch for a bit. He tried to see if she was okay, and she ran off, hissing and growling the whole way. We're a tad bit worried her mind is slipping. Actually, we're pretty sure her mind is gone.

In any case, the cold is here to stay. Cold weather is probably the reason why cats decided to con humans into thinking we'd domesticated them. We're nice and warm and we have blankets for them. We also keep roofs over their wicked little heads. And there is cuddling.