The Foz Cat doesn't usually believe me when I tell him he doesn't want to go outside. He just sits by the back door, sometimes silently, sometimes meowing incessantly. Sometimes I just have to show him. Like tonight. So I opened the back door and let him make up his mind. Fortunately, as he poked his head out, a gust of wind blew through the door. It's 2° and who knows what the windchill is. I haven't seen Foz run that fast in a long time as he scurried back inside. He is now resting comfortably on the living room couch, far, far away from the back door.