Ah, football.  The last game of the regular season.  Sad, actually. Now all she had to look forward to was the unbearably cold weather.  Blustering winds, chilly rains, gray skies threatening constant snow.   More wood needed to be cut in  preparation, though the porch was already loaded down.  It wouldn’t do to be unequipped.  She needed to store water, fill the lanterns and the kerosene heater.  It looked to be a brutal winter. Never had a year gone by without loss of power for at least a week or two.   Batteries had been purchased, extra dog and cat food bought and stored.  A blessing that the freezer was already filled to capacity.

            Julianne hated the cold. The summer months never seemed so bad until January was upon her.   When the air, filled with the scent of fresh evergreen and wild flowers of all varieties, a normal person didn’t think of winter’s harshness.  Not when the sun beat down on hills laden with green grass, and the streams rolled in gentle flows.  No, it was easy to pretend winter did not exist in the perfection of summer.
            But, alas, it was not summer - it was January - and soon, opening the front door would be an exercise in futility. It was beyond critical to be prepared. No room for thoughts of summer when the wind moaned through the window panes, rattling loose glass.
            Standing at tall windows trimmed in cherry wood, Julianne absorbed the gray skies tinged with icy blue edges blowing in.  Cold air seeped through indiscreetly. Shivering, she registered the need to seal the windows.  Letting unnecessary heat escape, an expense she didn’t need.  Heat, a precious commodity.  The howling winds picked up in their intensity, prodding Julianne into action.
            "Come on, you lazy mutt," she urged the slumbering lab affectionately, stretched out warmly before a blazing fire. "You need to go out and take care of business."
            He raised his head in protest.
            "I know, I know.  You don’t have to stay long," she compromised.

 
            In assent, he rose with reluctance but with the purpose in getting it over with quickly.  He knew from past experience she did not give up easily.  Better to make haste, have it over and done with, in a timely manner.
            He darted to the front door, wincing when the blast of cold air froze the dew dripping from his snout.  Casting a disgusted glance toward a haughty feline watching from her comfortable perch atop a ledge near the stairway. Her repartee?  A calmly lifted paw to begin her usual cleaning routine, and sarcastic smirk on her smug little face.  The sound that rose from his throat sounding between a growl and a groan.
            Sucking in a breath, he flew out the narrow opening of the door Julianne so graciously held for him.

            Wilhemina grinned inwardly, thanking whatever stars there were to thank, and Julianne, that she was not a dog.  She knew the big black hound resented her immensely by the disparaging look he’d thrown her as he’d hastened through the open door. He just happened to love Julianne more than he despised her!

            She lifted her other paw and ran her rough edged tongue over the long fur cleaning the imaginary dirt.  It suited Wilhemina perfectly.  So long as Wilhemina could stay dry and warm, Wilhemina would keep her contempt to herself.  It was all about Wilhemina, Wilhemina thought.  She stifled a feminine, feline laugh.
            "You shouldn’t act like that to him," Julianne told her.  Wilhemina stopped licking her paw long enough to bestow a queenly acknowledgement on Julianne standing before her, hands on her hips, shaking her head.
            Though she felt a slight twinge of guilt, she refused to lower her feline pride with any response.
            "It’s going to be really cold this winter, you know," Julianne continued. "He may put up a fuss when you try to use him for warmth.  Of course, it’s up to you."
            Wilhemina considered Julianne’s comments as she meandered to the window to wait for the mongrel.  Regret tinging with irritation, knowing she might be right, of course.
            With a silent sigh she leaped from her perch, landing with sure-feet on the sofa below, as Julianne let in a sharp breeze of frigid air.   The idiotic black monstrosity of mutt lumbered in racing for the warmth of the fire.
            In her own magnanimous way, Wilhemina decided to share her warmth with him realizing where her benefits lay.
            He accepted gracefully.

            As well, he should.