It’s been hot in southern Alberta lately. The temperature yesterday reached 30° Celsius. For those of us who remember real measurements, that’s about 89° on the Fahrenheit scale.
The reaction of cats to heat is something I find strange. They abandon sleeping on the bed for the most part. Tungsten, loyal beast that she is, starts out the night with me, tucked up against me as always. But she disappears at some point. She will come back once, twice, sometimes more, but just as frequently, she will go elsewhere. The other cats find cooler resorts in which to sleep.
During the day, they seek out hardwood and linoleum. Josie in particular favours the corridor leading to the bedroom, while the others sprawl where they can. Yet warmth, crazily, remains in demand. Yesterday, following dinner, after the cats had eaten and cleaned themselves, they relaxed to let their meals digest, as they always do. Where did I find Josie? On the ottoman in the back parlour - in the sun.
The boys are a bit more reasonable. Tucker likes a place on the cat-tree when I position it behind the screened front door, while Renn enjoys spreading out at the top of the tallest cat-tree.
The temperature is supposed to diminish tomorrow, and to drop to 12° by Friday (about 51° or 52° Fahrenheit). That’s the way spring is here. I’m hoping for a more equable summer - nothing over 25°, preferably 20°. But I’ve lived here too long to expect my demands to be met by meteorology. In that case, I’ll take a lesson from my cats, and just adapt as best I can.