Cat Comfort Zones

A well fed feline doesn’t seem to mind a few encounters with weather which will send me scuttling hastily indoors.

During decades of sharing our home environs with cats, I’ve noticed an intriguing behavior pattern re nasty weather.  The cat is going to go out!  Having sampled the cold/snow/rain, said cat will demand to come back inside and we, the humble servants, hasten to do his bidding.

The best chair or the pretty quilt spread over the bed become places of choice for grooming soggy fur, drying wet and muddy paws.

Once warmed, the cat inevitably requests to go outside again.  Teetering on the doorstep while cold drafts swirl about the ankles of the attending human, CAT beseeches us to change the weather.  Surely we beings who provide food and the comforts of home should have it in our power to raise the temperature, calm the wind and call a halt to falling sleet or snow.

Sally prefers the wicker bench which has been a mainstay of the front porch in our several Kentucky homes. 

We always provide a variety of inviting ‘nests’ to shelter our outdoor cats from cold and storms.

Willis, that grandest of feline overseers, takes full advantage.  We are atuned to his desire to have his blanket draped canvas chair turned to catch the rare sunbeams that glance into the half open door of the shed.  His food tray is replenished so that should he  need a midnight snack there is no need to cross the chilly yard for a nibble from the bowl on the porch.

At our first Kentucky home, the small farm in Gradyville, grandson Devin and I went to great lengths to provide snug winter accommodations for the outdoor cats. Clambering up the stairs to the hay barn loft, we stacked hay bales to create several draught-free 'caves' which we lined with old down-filled sleeping bags. The cats, who had supervised this project, appeared quite indifferent to our solicitous arrangements. 

Willis, annoyed at having his afternoon nap interrupted for a photo op.

It was not uncommon to open the east-facing front door of the little house on a cold morning and find an assortment of ‘barn cats’ occupying a snow-dusted bench, whiskers and eyebrows bristling with frost.  

Chester, claiming one of the recliners in the camper.

The indoor cats, pampered darlings, step daintily into the cold, shaking  disgruntled paws at the first touch of snow or wet, while Willis and Co, wrapped in their ‘fur-abouts’ look on with the smug aplomb of hardier souls.

Once inside again, those with indoor/overnight status, are quick to stake out the coziest places.

Teasel has taken 'my chair.'

On my way to bed one late evening, I noted this cat pile:  Teasel, at left; Nellie, sprawled at center; Mima.

Bobby Mac [aka Robert] is the most intrepid in claiming his outdoor privileges--but appreciates a soft bed.

Chairs and sofa in the camper are draped in an assortment of throws, blankets and rugs--a vain attempt to protect upholstery!