Well, this winter does drag on ... temperatures down below zero again lately, though the Midwest and the East Coast haven't exactly been having a week at the beach, either, we hear. But I do get a touch of cabin fever when Miss Jerrianne goes out and I get left behind because it's too cold outside for pussycats ... or maybe that's just a convenient excuse.

Cold weather doesn't seem to bother those Siberian racing cats that won a sled dog race in Oregon, though their fur is a lot longer than mine and trotting does keep one warm. I really laughed when Miss Jerrianne read me that story. If you missed it, you can read about it here: http://www.siberiancats.com/race.htm

We did go out recently to a place where a Mackenzie River Husky dog lives. Yogi (the dog) is as big as a Shetland pony, to hear Miss Jerrianne tell it, though she does exaggerate a bit sometimes. Anyway, we were just leaving and as Miss Jerrianne was trying to put her snow boots on, Yogi joined us in the vestibule. He couldn't see me in my pouch, but he knew I was there somewhere and he was VERY interested. I let out a low growl to warn him off. Boy, did THAT get his attention!

Well, it all worked out and I lived to tell the tale, though Miss Jerrianne had seriously contemplated grabbing my pouch and fleeing out the front door in her stocking feet. I got a good talking to on the way out to the van. Pick on somebody your own size, she advised. That would have been an excellent time to keep my big mouth shut, she said. But I'm about 13 (in "cat years"), and any teenager knows how that goes!

So we've stayed in the house more than suits us lately, and when I get bored, I let Miss Jerrianne know it. One good way to do this is to put my front paws on her knee, extend my needle sharp claws and stretch-h-h-h-h ... which gets her attention every time. Eventually, she decides I'm getting too much good out of those pretty claws I'm so proud of and out come the nail nippers ... snip, snip, snip ... and then I have to grow them out all over again.

I play hard to get when she gets out the nail scissors, but those shrimp and salmon kitty treats are SO hard to resist. Sometimes I like to mess with her head by pretending it hurts when she is being so very careful to make sure she doesn't pinch or pull my toes or cut too close to the "quick," but it's my vanity that's hurt, not my pretty little paws. She gets out the catnip afterwards to mollify me. Catnip makes me dizzy and suddenly I need a cat nap.

Miss Jerrianne has been trying to teach me to come to her and jump on her lap when she calls, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty." So I come close, but still well out of reach, and give her a look that says, "Show me the treat and THEN we'll talk." If she offers a treat, I take it politely and jump back down out of reach and eat it on the floor. But if I don't show up at all and Miss Jerrianne can't find me, she heads downstairs to see if I've trapped myself ... again.

Sure enough ... if I pull out the door stop, that door swings shut and I'm stuck. Every time. Ordinarily, if I'm on the wrong side of a closed door, I'll meow and whine piteously, hoping to use guilt as leverage to gain sympathy, and admittance to forbidden places, but I'm far too embarrassed to whine for help if I find myself "hoist by my own petard."

When the downstairs door opens, at last, I'll race Miss Jerrianne up the stairs. I always win! I frequently head for the kitchen and peer under the stove. I say "meow" so she'll think a toy is stuck under there. She gets out the flashlight and her long green stick and flops down for a look, while I try to make off with her tools. Sometimes she finds a toy and fishes it out, but other times I know very well that she won't find a toy because I just hid it someplace else.