Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. We have reached a temperature so low that I fully expect to see penguins migrating through our paddock any moment. The device that records temperatures this morning announced that it was -28 degrees.
We breakfasted inside but then Doc became so agitated with the idea of staying in his room that the woman put a second blanket on him, Jack's checked coat on him and let us out into the elements. We all immediately grew a heavy frost coating on the side away from what passes for the sun these days. Doc and I were quite comfortable but Jack grew more and more upset, stamping his feet and trotting back and forth to the barn door. Finally, he began rapping on the door very sharply with his hoof whilst making loud honking noises. The woman let him in. I didn't wish to go in and loitered in the run-in. Jack didn't want to be inside without me and the woman tried to coax me in but I feigned deafness and stared into the distance. Eventually she gave me a lecture about letting the heat out of the barn and chivveyed me indoors.
Jack was still quite upset and shivery so he leaned on the woman for a bit and she rubbed his ears warm and convinced him to share a pile of hay with me. She decided that the heated pet mat bought for Sally simply wasn't up to the job and brought out a quilted, pillowy heated rectangle used by humans. She installed this in the bottom of a plush cat bed and surrounded the whole thing with a blue blanket. Sally is very taken with it and has consented to move out from under the saddle rack.
Sally has been very badly treated by humans and expects to be struck every time she sees a hand attached to a person. I find this most puzzling; she is a shy and retiring sort who desperately wants to lead a quiet life. She is slowly coming around and has begun to eat a bit of tinned food. She is the smallest feline I have ever seen but I am assured she is full grown and is in fact the mother of two. She has had some sort of procedure to prevent further offspring but I don't care to know what that involved. She still has a bare midriff, which must be a tad chilly in this weather. Because she is so frightened, I am trying to be patient but ruffling cat fur is one of my favourite tactile sensations.
This weather nonsense is supposed to continue for the forseeable future. I'm looking into the process of hibernation as an alternative to living in an arctic air mass for days on end. Our local bear is slumbering in a cosy den at the moment but next spring I will quiz him on the finer points of remaining catatonic for the winter months. On the bright side, the woman says I have enough body mass to hibernate non-stop for several years straight.