The minute the door opened I jumped back. "What is this shit!"
"Will you keep your voice down, the neighbours are going to hear!" Skeeter hissed.
"I don't give a flying fuck! You are not taking me out in this crap!"
"Oh, for Christ's sake, will you stop being such a pussy." And the door shut and we were in it. We were out there, in the mountains of fucking snow which had fallen in the mere six hours since our last walk.
"I'll hold it in. I swear. Just let me go back in!" I yowled, barely heard over the fucking wind which was now slapping my ears against me head.
"You haven't been able to hold it in since you've been with us...down the goddam stairs!" he commanded. And off we went into this shit, the first storm of the season. I don't hate winter, but there had been nothing in the way of snow removal and we were plowing through about two feet of powder. "Please, please—"
"—just do your business. Stop acting like you've never seen a winter—"
"—but normally I get to ease into it. This is one big pile of shit for the first storm of the year, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he said, no longer worried about people hearing because the wind was so loud and the mind-boggling amount of snow falling was muffling all sound. We continued to struggle on but all my favourite places to piss were under the snow and so I had to really bury my nose in to even get close to an interesting spotting. "I can't do this!" I yelled.
"Just do it!" he roared. "It's freezing!"
"I'm dragging my dick in this snow! My dick is actually dragging in the snow!!! Do you know how that feels?!?! Of course you don't! You don't give a shit about me! Why don't you just fucking leave me out here to die!?!? That's what you want, isn't it? You're a cruel, cruel man!!! Do you have any idea how hard it is to piss in this!"
"Oh! Stop your whining, you big baby," someone else said, "and don't you dare piss on me!" Suddenly, crawling out of the snow, as if by magic, came Cleo, and close behind her came Slicer. They had been hiding under a porch, under the snow. In the time it took the two to stretch, they became completely white from the snow falling harder now. But they looked good! Healthy and well-fed and there was a sparkle in Cleo's eyes and a warmth in Slicer's I had never seen before.
But then Slicer let out one of those incredible shrieks that turned my blood colder than it already was. I'm sure that he thought that noise from hell was a laugh because Cleo tittered along. Then Slicer howled with the wind and said, "Isn't this great!"
"He likes winter," Cleo said. "And now I do too. It's amazing how kind people around here are—leaving out food and clearing spaces for us to sleep." Slicer yowled in assent and if I had balls, they would have climbed out of my scrotum and up to my neck.
Skeeter was being very patient, considering how cold it was. Mind you, he was dressed for it and I was not. But here's the thing: the two cats came over, wrapped themselves around me, shielding me from the cold if not the snow. I suddenly understood how these two not only survived but seemed to be thriving in this! He was an alley cat and had always been, yes, but she, too, was so well-coated that it was as if she had become fully feral since last summer when she had been abandoned by her people. But something else... They were exuding an almost supernatural heat. I don't know if it was sexual heat or something else...something evolved, maybe? Was that possible? Cats?
Nah.
Finally I said, "I better get the sissy home." Slicer made that noise that made me so glad I was leaving. As we walked away, Cleo and her beau crawled back into the snow and back under the porch. The rest of the walk had me climbing into snowbanks for spots to relieve myself and freezing my arse along with my beezer.
Finally we were home and soon curled up in the La-Z-Boy. I was toasty warm, now, and content but still thinking about the cats. Skeeter said, "That was odd."
I looked at Boo-Boo who was watching Old Christine as he slept, and then looked at Skeet who was watching Old Christine as he surfed the net on his iPad. I thought: 18 years, these two.
Let's talk odd.
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