I Adapt

I adapt.  What other choice do I have? Below-freezing nights and days, both outdoors and inside the cabin, when it gets up to forty degrees inside this cabin, I finally feel warm.  When it got down to 12 degrees last night, I worried about Henry freezing to death.

Henry is the beautiful rooster my friend brought me almost a month ago.  Two nights back, when the sleet started and Henry found a tree in which to roost, I sat around for a couple of hours on my couch, waiting for him to be in rooster dreamland.  Around ten o’clock, bundled up, I put on a headlamp and went outside, the sleet coming down.  I got to the tree where he roosted on one of the lower branches.  The ladder I had carried out earlier needed steadying against the tree he was in; I was hoping he would not wake up.  Stealthily, I climbed the ladder to the top rung, while clinging to the tree with my left arm.  I managed to grab him by one of his legs with my right, gloved hand.  Carefully stepping back down the ladder, rooster freaking out loudly, I threw an old towel over his drooping, wet feathers and held him close as I stepped back out of the woods onto the driveway.  I trudged past the parked car, up the steps onto the cluttered porch, through the front door into the warm cabin, and into the cold junk room where I one-handedly grabbed a four-foot-long PVC pipe leaned against the wall.  I balanced it between the tops of two shelves and placed Henry on it.  He grabbed onto the pipe and was still.  I went back into the warmer room and sat up for a while, listening for the cats to explore the scent of Henry in the back room.  When I was satisfied they were not interested, I slept on the couch until I heard Henry’s first early morning crows.  I kept him in the room until the morning was brighter and then I took him outside.

Last night, as the temperature dropped into the teens, I searched for Henry. He was hiding in a new place.  I guess he did not wish to have his sleep disturbed again.  I heard him crow early this morning.  When I finally got up and looked outside, he was waiting at the porch steps for me to throw him some food.  The animals’ drinking water froze solid last night.  As I poured water into the pan, the cats and Henry approached to drink.  I fed all of them cat food.  I was glad to see they were all present.

If these animals can get through these frigid nights, I suppose I can, as well, even though I feel frustrated much of the time.  The cats and Henry do not complain.  They simply adapt.  I take their lead;  adapt.

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