Winter Storm Hercules

I HATE when they name storms! Almost as much as when they refer to them as 'weather events.'

We’re due for a blizzard today. Joy. Actually, it's already begun. Eight to twelve inches of the annoying, heavy white stuff’s expected. Sigh.

I’ve been inviting Rocco in every day for the last week (at least). I’ve told him about the blizzard (he doesn’t get the weather channel), tried to reason with him, explained that we have actual, real live heat indoors.

Rocco, demanding more pats

Nope. No deal.

You might ask ‘why don’t you just pick him up and carry his old scarred self in?’ Seems like it ought to be easy, eh? Em...no.

Remember, this fierce, handsome boy was the Feral King up until quite recently. It was in early August, less than four months ago, that he let me pat him for the very first time in the nearly 12 years he’s been coming around.

The front cave and yes, that's his baby blanket

 
The path from ferocious, untamed jungle warrior to happy-ish, schmoozy boy was not smooth or straight. Shit took time.

In any case, I bought him what I thought would be a fabulous little house -- a heated one at that!  He was wholly unimpressed and uninterested. I’ve not seen him in there once. Dunno why.

Coco in her nice warm house

Coco's castle

Rocco has two plush ‘caves’ though. He's quite happy with these. One was Coco’s but, apart from the first day we brought it home, she’s had negative amounts of interest. Why go into the cave, after all, when she has her choice of warm laps, a queen sized bed, her very own castle and, hello, central heat?

Rocco's caves aren’t waterproof and don’t have hard shells. That is, a big snowfall is gonna soak and crush them.

What to do? What to do?!

Yesterday I rearranged the porch furniture (2 benches and an Adirondack chair), slipped one of his caves into an open ended cardboard box and rigged up a couple of tarps over the whole mess. Not perfect but maybe he’ll stay as dry and warm as he’ll accept.

Here’s the one guilt inducing hitch. When I bring out his brekkie, lunch and dinner (yes, our poor benighted warrior prince gets three squares or more daily. He deserves it!) he likes to snuggle before digging into his ‘salmon’ shreds in sauce. This involves me sitting or reclining on the veranda floor while he circles me, scent marking his property like the good, responsible human owner he is. Rocco then pushes his head against whichever body part is handy so that I can provide him with a thorough round of pats and chin skriches. Recently, he's gone as far as allowing me to hug him. Can sitting on my lap or letting me pick him up be so far away?

We have a solid routine. I can’t give him all the affection he now needs if the wind's stiff enough to knock me off my feet (and that doesn’t take much) and we’re being pelted with snow.

This storm is fucking with our schedule.