I got home late from a Christmas Day excursion to Connecticut. I debated whether to get up early for church after only 4-5 hours of sleep or to sleep in an extra hour and go to the evening mass. Since the night game featured Miami and Cleveland (i.e., 2 of the NFL's 3 worst teams), I chose to go to the 8 p.m. mass.
Foz was at my door meowing his head off at 8 a.m. It woke me up. I could have, and probably should have, made it to the 8:30 mass, but I stuck to my original plan and tried to sleep through the meowing, which stopped promptly at 8:30. I think Foz was trying to warn me: "You'd better go now, Derek, because you're not going to want to drive tonight." Foz was right, but I hadn't remembered we were getting a snowstorm. I made it to the 8 p.m. mass, but the drive was hell, both because of the road conditions and idiots in other cars.
Today it was my turn. Foz was meowing all morning to be let outside, but I refused to comply, explaining that it's 20° outside with a foot of snow blanketing everything. Like me the previous day, Foz wouldn't listen. When I went outside to shovel, I let Foz follow me out, figuring he'd stop at the doorway, get a whiff of the cold air and snow, and turn back inside. Instead, he trotted gingerly out into the snow to explore.
I proceeded to shovel the front and back stairs, sidewalk, and driveway. When I was done, I called for Foz, figuring he'd had enough of this winter wonderland. As soon as I started calling, I heard plaintive meowing coming from behind a shrub at the far side of the backyard. I called encouragingly, suggesting he simply backtrack, but the meowing only became more pleading. So, I decided to trudge across the snow-blanketed yard to rescue Foz.
What I found made me laugh. Foz had somehow jumped up onto the top of a chainlink fence, 3-4 feet off the ground, and was precariously balance at the top, unwilling to jump into the snow on either side. I carefully reached around the bush that was between us, lifted him straight up, and carried him inside. Now I've turned up the heat in the house a bit and Foz is purring contentedly.
Now, if we'd only listened to each other initially, we could have avoided a lot of drama and discomfort!