I must admit the girls are not even curious about snow, but Jonesy and Cepha were. I will always remember their very different reactions to the cold fluff wafting down from the sky to settle on the ground. Have you ever noticed how a silence descends on the world when it snows? I like to wrap up and stand by the open sun lounge door watching the quiet flakes float down. Jonesy liked to do this too. When ever I opened the door during a snow flurry he would come and sit next to me gazing at the wonder. His ears would twitch and flick as he looked around, but, to be honest, if he didn't have to actually go outside he was happy. Once or twice I would gather him into my arms and stand outside while it snowed, and it would make me smile to see him stare about. It was almost as if he couldn't understand what was going on....and why was it so white. I wonder if cats see in colour? Jonesy would make no effort to get out of my arms, or even struggle to get back inside, but he was clearly happier once we were actually back in doors! To be honest it was about the only time he would use the litter tray.
Now Cepha was much braver. As I have mentioned before, he liked the rain and storms, so snow was no obstacle. He would launch himself out into the snow with the kind of glee you tend to see in children. If the snow was deep he would bounce and leap about with a kind of joyful abandonment. Any drifting flurries hovering in the air would be met with his nose up, as if he was sniffing the crisp air. To say Cepha loved being out the quiet world of white wonder is not an exaggeration, because he clearly did.
It's funny how each of the cats were so different in how they dealt with the unpredictable British weather. Here, in the south, we don't get snow often enough for our pets to be used to it. Maybe that is why all of my cats behaved the way they did each time we were greeted with the winter wonderland?
Ah! Lovely......
ReplyDeleteI remember my George, he hated the cold weather, does'nt bother me me...! :).
When l went off to bed, he'd sit at the bottom of the bed.
Give himself a good wash, by the time l'd settled down, he'd creep up the top, turn and get under the quilt, turn again, put his head on the pillow next to mine, and go to sleep. BUT.....Shore as ever, about two o'clock he'd want to go for a wee. Sooooo...Down the stairs we'd go, out the dinning room window for about five minutes, then back to bed...."Happy Days".
Bless....! :0).