My very bad mother shut me outside in the cold this morning. It was an accident but I didn’t like it. Mind you, I just sat at the door waiting for someone to figure out I was missing – I didn’t think to bark. So know I am sitting by the heater, wearing my merino wool jersey, trying to warm up. Mum feels bad, and so she should!
Faith loves the gas heater in the lounge. She gets in really close – until she is cooked and panting – then moves right away to cool off, then the cycle begins again. Nothing I do will convince her to just move back a bit and stay there. Tony’s back is damaged from years of ambulance work and keeping it really warm helps, so in the evening he often lies in front of the heater until the skin on his back is red hot. Faith doesn’t mind; she just stretches out, back to back with him, and soaks up the warmth.