At the coldest point during the last polar vortex, Leslie the Barncat asked to come inside.
So, I set up a bed, food and water, and a litter pan in the mudroom. After 18 hours, she was warm and restless and ready to return to the barn.
A few nights ago, when temperatures dipped into the single digits, she began appearing at the back door, asking to come inside. I let her stay overnight in the mudroom. In the morning, she was on her way.
This morning, she put her paws down and absolutely refused to go outside.
(Leslie also is not keen about having her mugshot taken. She refused to stand still for it).
"Here's the problem with you staying in the mudroom," I tell her. "I have to move the dogs' water pan into another room."
She snuggled deeper into her blanket.
"Okay, here's the real problem," I tell her. "Heat."
With the door closed, the room only receives a blast of heat when the furnace kicks on -- an infrequent occurrence when we have a fire in the wood stove. No heat means that pipes freeze.
This didn't concern Ms. Leslie.
So, we've come up with a compromise, though she doesn't think so.
For the next cold spell, she's moving to the cellar. Leslie the Cellar Cat has a nice ring to it.