A cat in snow

We have 15 inches of snow on the ground. It arrived three days ago and our view is essentially unchanged. Nothing is melting because it's 20 degrees outside. Despite the sunshine, which is abundant and beautiful, great clumps of snow still cling to the trees.

Yesterday we dug a trench to the street so we can walk to the market should the need arise. It hasn't, but it will before too much longer. This is more snow than Sisters usually gets at one time—at least that's what the natives say—but it's only half what we got last January. We hope we aren't seeing a pattern, because this much snow is hard on our backs.

Zoé, our cat, doesn't like it either. She ventured forth for the first time this afternoon and after she was gone two hours we began to wonder where she was. Of course calling a cat is useless unless they're already headed in your direction, so Ray (henceforth known as Pathfinder) put on his boots and set out to follow her trail. We both knew this was a waste of time, but it made us feel better.

Shortly after he went out the front door I spotted Zoé doing her balancing act along the back fence. Because the fence is narrow she can't walk atop it normally. Instead she uses her two left feet (or right, depending on direction) to walk along the fence top, while the other two travel along the horizontal brace that runs six inches lower. This bi-level locomotion is awkward even for a cat, but I have seen her run at a presentable speed when a squirrel was in view. Today, though, the fence was snowy and the going slow.

The trouble with getting yourself up on a fence is that no matter where you come down you're in 15 inches of snow. Clearly, this was not a welcome thought and Zoé meowed pitifully while navigating the fence's right turn toward the house. It seemed obvious that she would jump down when she got near the door but with typical cat logic she kept going. Ray eventually managed to catch up with her, and passed her through a nearby window to me. This move, which we considered a rescue, made her highly indignant. After complaining loudly and convincingly, she went off to wash herself. You can't win with a cat.

It's supposed to warm into the low 30s tomorrow and reach 40 by Tuesday. I expect this to improve Zoé's disposition. As for for the humans in the family, I'm thinking a fire and a cognac might do it.