Last week, Cheyenne had some cold weather. Cold, even, by our standards. We spent about three days with temperatures that never rose above zero. Cold, I say.
So on Friday, I was a little bit surprised to find I was breaking a sweat in the car as I drove across town. A quick glance at the temperature gauge revealed that it was FIFTY degrees. A-mazing!
I finished my errands and rushed home. As soon as the requisite belly rubbing was done, I opened a window.
Mmmm, smell-o-vision. A cat can forget how wonderful Out smells.
I went upstairs to find Oliver and open a window for him. Laying on the loveseat in the reading nook, he was not interested in moving to the cat shelf. I picked him up and moved him anyway.
Aaaaah, glorious smell-o-vision. Thank you, Girl, for forcing me to move.
Oliver didn’t have much time to enjoy his smell-o-vision before the brown kitten arrived upstairs. And smell-o-vision became…
Butt-o-vision.
Holly loved smell-o-vision — I’d open the window for her every morning, and she’d head straight for it right after breakfast. And then sometimes she’d ask me to open a window for her at night (or at any other time of day if I was home). Thunder can pretty much take it or leave it, and so far Seffie has been frightened off by the sound of the window opening.
eww butt-o-vision, in our house we have nappy sniffing followed quickly by all cats wanting out!