Summer is not at the back door....

I am borrowing the term "Summer is not at the back door..." from my dearest friend, Nancy. This latest cold front is more like an artic blast for those of us who live south of Round Top.

Three cats rule the roost in this household. Daisy Duke is the calico bitch cat. The Gray Cat is a fluffy lovebug and offspring of Daisy. And Simba is the mild mannered fluffy lion cat. Actually, all of the cats are fluffy like me. Daisy and Gray Baby (as he is affectionately known) tend to be housecats after Labor Day. Simba prefers the outdoors but this artic blast has driven him indoors. Like most cats, they prefer sunbeams for their naps. But they will make do with the heat blowing from the floor vent just as well. And its no big deal to wake up with all three of the mousers piled up at the foot of my bed on winter mornings.

I have three outside doors in my house. Two doors face the north and the front door faces the west under the carport. These cats are well trained and prefer to do their bitness outside. "Meow" at the front door; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same cat "Meow" at North Door #1; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same damn cat "Meow" at North Door #2; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Back to to the front door and the cat reluctantly enters the Antartica Circle with a gentle nudge from the one who feeds them.

Nancy and I believe they are looking for "summer". They would settle for "spring". And so until the end of March until early April, I will have to tell the three amigos, "Summer is not at the back door."