Since this is my first year of being Out when I choose ('cept at night, blast Her!) I am especially excited to feel The Cold riffle my handsome coat - ahhhhh, the delicious feel of the Autumn breeze through my whiskers, such a delight, so very delicious!
Erm, but a bit on the coolish side. I go Out and enjoy the fresh air then come In and enjoy The House Warm. Good life for a cat. Too bad Her is an ejit convinced I will be eaten by Bad Things if I am out in the evenings and my all time favourite - the very early morning just before the sun comes up.
Another way I know The Cold is on its way back is when Him brings out the special tools for cleaning the Hot Box. (Yes, I know, it is a stove. I like saying Hot Box, so much quicker than typing out 'multi-fuel stove', say you agree!). Him cleans the Hot Box from Inside and Outside and this year I was very happy to assist him in the Outside section of this programme. Next year I shall endeavour to assist from a further distance so as to preclude the need for an after-the-cleaning bath - YUCK!
And so without further ado I present to you my latest portrait - Roo Enjoys The First Firing of the Hot Box!:
Ahhhhhhh, the joys of The Cold! I am nicely settled in here and the Hot Box is one of the amenities most appreciated:)
I am also learning all manner of new feats, tricks (I know but it does keep the treats coming!), and words. I must be careful as I'm fast losing my Devon accent! I think I must have some sort of weird hybrid now, part Scottish (Him), part American Surfer (Her), and part Devon (moi, Mum, and Dad). Oh, a part Posh too - I find myself listening to telly and quite a number of those presenters have such posh accents!
Among the feats I have now on my CV (Her says this is BritSpeak for resume. Americans talk funny if you ask me and since you are reading here you've clearly asked!) is door opening. Now, if (according to Her) one has something called 'knobs' as door furniture (more BritSpeak, this time for door handles. S'rsly, Yanks talk funny!), lacking opposable thumbs (GRRRRR!) would present quite the challenge for a cat. Luckily our door furniture consists entirely of easy-open levers:):):):):)
Unluckily Her has caught on and when Her doesn't want me out Her LOCKS! Imagine that, Her LOCKS to prevent my departure. Heh. Without those opposable thumbs thingies (GRRRR!) once Her locks I'm stuck.
My newest word is 'dreich', Scottish for absolutely miserable drenching cold mist that works its way into even the deepest layers of my lovely incoming winter coat. We had something Her, Him, and the weather presenter on the telly called Indian Summer. Heh. It lasted a whopping whole two days.
And now here in Scotland it is dreich-dreich-dreich, and I am going to go into the Study to inform Him I require a nice firing up of the Hot Box.
MeNOWel!
