“Snow…I hate snow.” A cat slowly made his way through the fresh snow, trying his best to stay on the uncovered brick of a patio. Behind him his owner said something, but he ignored her. The cat’s paw slid into a lump of snow and he jumped. His fur was on end and his eye’s were wide.
“Snow…..I hate it!” He mewed.

On the fence of the yard a squirrel had cleared off some snow, sitting comfortably. Seeing this, the cat jumped over, snarling at the squirrel until it left. He settled into the spot once occupied by the squirrel, sighing. He shivered slightly as a brisk breeze came, and he puffed up his fur. “First snow…Now wind…I hate winter.” He mumbled

The cat sat up there for what felt like hours. If someone were to look outside of their warm houses, they would see him, an orange and white puff, sitting on the fence. The cat heard a crunching of snow, but ignored it.

“Charlie!” The cat looked around just in time to see paws, and feel the uncomfortable feeling of wet fur as he landed in the snow.