Poor Emma is cold. She sits on the heating vents whenever they are blowing hot air. She sleeps right next to Ted's legs, under the covers, all night. She has been very clingy in the past few days, making me wonder if she was truly Chilly. Squeaker has a double coat, so she doesn't care.
"I'll try the sweater," says I. It is a bit big and she comes out of it on occasion, but I wonder if she understands it is warm? She still sits on the vents. Her pathetic cries have fallen on deaf ears, however.