I felt like Fred-Flinstoning the cat out the back door into the 8 degree Fahrenheit (-13.3 degree Celsius) weather.
Somehow, and I don't know how, six days a week he's still asleep when I get up. And invariably on Sunday, my only day off right now, he's up at 4:30.
Today he woke me up three times before 6:30. How is that even possible?!
I know it becomes a lot less possible if he's a catsicle ...
Labels: Cold, Flinstones, Kitty, Sleep