Outside? No, thanks!

I ran upstairs to the protection of my room.

Does one have to speak English to be able to communicate the fact that it's absolutely horrible outside, so I would really rather not take the air?

Apparently, yes. This morning, my family, two behind and one in front, deliberately forced me into this wild, wild weather, with another foot of snow having fallen and icy pellets pinging off my insulated jacket (collar popped, of course). Ping! Ping! Ping! Isn't that enough warning to heed?

Having no verbal say in the matter, I at last consented to trek to the end of the street, and then, being able to master Mom, turned around and, picking up plenty of steam for the return trip, dragged her back in. You know, to put herself in my paws, for a change.

How did she like it? Not one bit, because she objected to Dad feeding me.

Harrumph. Of course, with Dad in charge of the food bin, I got my way. Again.