This morning the woman bustled around, carrying strange items out to the barn, including foodstuffs that, judging from the smell, had a high fish content. Doc wanted to try them, of course, but she said no - of course. She even brought in a heated bed, which I foolishly hoped was for me, even though it seemed a touch on the small side. It wasn't for me.
Awhile later, she appeared with the cat transportation cube and there was a cat inside. The cat was somewhere at the back and seems to consist of a pair of enormous and horrified eyes. We are all cat fanciers to the core and clustered around to welcome the new feline. We blew welcoming hot breath into the interior and nudged the cube with our noses. The cube and contents were hustled into the tack room where the eyes promptly disappeared under the saddle rack. Thus far we have no idea what the new arrival looks like but hope for a sighting in the next week or so. I can't wait to meet the feline attached to the eyes. Her name is Sally. We are overrun with mice and I now have a faint hope we can sleep through the night without constant scratching and rustling coming from the tackroom. It won't solve Jack's eighty decibel snoring but I've grown used to that.
Meanwhile, we are in a deep freeze and it's about to plummet even further. When the thin, wintery sun makes an appearance, I plaster myself against the front of the barn to absorb the reflected heat. The woman says my back felt like a radiator but she's notoriously prone to exaggeration. I've attached some images so you can see how dire my situation has grown.