I have a question.
Actually, I have had this question for several winters now.
Why are you always cold?
I don't understand.
You have invented heating.
You have blankets.
You have radiators.
You have slippers.
You have socks.
You have sweaters.
You have coats.
You have scarves.
You have hats.
You have gloves.
Some of you even have something called a thermal base layer.
And yet...
Every October, you stand in the middle of the room and announce:
“I'm freezing.”
π
Meanwhile, I am lying on the sofa wearing exactly one outfit.
Fur.
And I'm fine.
πΎ My Winter Wardrobe
Let's compare.
Gryzka's wardrobe:
One fur coat.
That's it.
No buttons.
No zippers.
No sleeves.
No laundry.
No ironing.
No seasonal shopping.
No trying things on.
No standing in front of the mirror saying:
“Does this make me look bigger?”
Obviously it does.
You put on five sweaters.
Of course you look bigger.
π
π§Ά The Sweater Appears
The first sign of winter is always the same.
The human opens a cupboard.
She pulls out a sweater.
Then another.
Then another.
Suddenly there are sweaters everywhere.
On the sofa.
On the chair.
On the bed.
On the floor.
I inspect them.
They are soft.
Warm.
Excellent.
Naturally, I sit on one.
The human comes back.
“Gryzka! I'm wearing that!”
Yes.
Were wearing.
Now I am wearing it.
This is how ownership works.
𧦠The Sock Situation
Humans have a remarkable relationship with socks.
They put socks on their feet.
Then they complain that their feet are cold.
This is confusing.
Cats have paws.
We don't need socks.
We walk around perfectly happily.
Humans have feet.
They cover them in socks.
Then slippers.
Then sometimes another pair of socks.
And still:
“My feet are freezing!”
Perhaps the problem is not your feet.
Perhaps the problem is your attitude.
π
π§£ The Scarf Incident
Then comes the scarf.
Humans wrap enormous pieces of fabric around their necks.
Round.
Round.
Round.
Sometimes three times.
At this point, I wonder how they breathe.
Then they look in the mirror.
“I love this scarf.”
Why?
It is touching your face.
It is enormous.
It gets caught in doors.
It falls into soup.
And when you come home, you throw it onto the sofa.
Which means...
My scarf now.
πΎ
π§₯ The Coat
The coat is the most impressive part.
Humans have coats for:
Rain.
Cold.
Very cold.
Slightly cold.
Wind.
Rain and wind.
Cold rain.
Autumn rain.
Winter rain.
Occasionally rain that is somehow described as “light.”
Cats have one coat.
We call it:
fur.
It works in autumn.
It works in winter.
It works in spring.
Sometimes it works so well that humans complain:
“Gryzka, you're shedding everywhere!”
Yes.
That's how the heating system works.
π§€ Gloves
Then humans put gloves on.
This creates a serious problem.
They can no longer use their fingers properly.
They struggle with keys.
They struggle with phones.
They struggle with zippers.
They drop things.
They complain.
Meanwhile, I have perfectly functioning paws.
No gloves.
No problem.
Perhaps humans should reconsider their clothing choices.
π© And Then Come Hats
I have never understood hats.
Humans put something on their heads because it is cold.
Fine.
But then they take it off indoors.
Then they put it back on.
Then they take it off again.
Then they complain that their hair looks strange.
Humans spend an extraordinary amount of time managing their heads.
Cats simply have ears.
Much easier.
π§€ The Five-Layer Mystery
I conducted an experiment.
I watched the human get dressed one morning.
Layer one:
shirt.
Layer two:
sweater.
Layer three:
another sweater.
Layer four:
coat.
Layer five:
scarf.
Then:
hat.
Gloves.
Socks.
Boots.
She stood in front of the mirror.
“I hope I'm warm enough.”
I stared at her.
You are wearing the entire textile industry.
What more do you want?
π
π± Meanwhile...
I was lying on the sofa.
One fur coat.
Paws tucked underneath.
Completely comfortable.
The human looked at me.
“You're lucky you have fur.”
Correct.
Thank you for noticing.
π‘️ The Thermostat Argument
Humans also have complicated arguments about temperature.
One human says:
“It's freezing.”
Another says:
“It's too warm.”
One opens a window.
Another closes it.
Someone adjusts the heating.
Someone else adjusts it again.
Then everybody complains.
Cats have a much simpler system.
Too cold?
Find radiator.
Too warm?
Find floor.
Perfect temperature?
Stay there until someone disturbs you.
This system has worked beautifully for generations.
π₯ The Radiator
The radiator is particularly important.
Humans believe it belongs to the household.
Incorrect.
It belongs to cats.
The human pays for the heating.
That is admirable.
We appreciate her contribution.
But payment does not equal ownership.
If Kitka is lying beside the radiator, the radiator is Kitka's.
If I am lying beside it, it is mine.
If Spurka arrives first...
We negotiate.
Lenka usually just sits on somebody.
This is why she is not yet allowed to handle legal matters.
π️ The Blanket Problem
Humans also have blankets.
Many blankets.
Thick blankets.
Soft blankets.
Fleece blankets.
Winter blankets.
Electric blankets.
Weighted blankets.
And yet...
When I lie on one, the human says:
“Can I have some?”
No.
You have five more.
This one is occupied.
π―
She pulls the blanket.
I pull it back.
She pulls again.
I refuse.
She sighs.
Eventually we reach an agreement.
She gets approximately 20 percent.
I get the remaining 80.
Fair.
π§₯ The Great Coat Pocket Mystery
Human coats have pockets.
Many pockets.
Why?
To carry things.
Keys.
Phone.
Wallet.
Tissues.
Receipts.
Sometimes food.
I believe coat pockets should contain treats.
This seems obvious.
I have inspected several.
None contained treats.
This is a serious design flaw.
If humans want cats to approve their coats, they need to improve pocket contents.
πΎ Why Don't Cats Need Clothes?
Because we have already solved the problem.
Our bodies come with:
✨ insulation
✨ warmth
✨ softness
✨ built-in seasonal adjustment
✨ no zippers
✨ no buttons
✨ no dry cleaning
And our fur has another important feature.
It can be deposited on human clothing.
This means that even when humans leave the house...
we go with them.
πΎ
You're welcome.
πΉ The Human Finally Gets Home
After all the layers, the human eventually goes outside.
She comes back.
She takes off:
coat.
Scarf.
Hat.
Gloves.
Boots.
Sweater.
Sometimes another sweater.
The floor is covered.
The chair is covered.
The sofa is covered.
I inspect everything.
Excellent.
A whole collection of new cat beds.
The human says:
“I'm exhausted.”
I don't understand.
You spent the entire day wearing blankets.
How difficult could it be?
π― Gryzka's Official Winter Clothing Guide
If humans insist on wearing clothes, I have some recommendations.
For mild autumn weather:
One sweater.
For cold weather:
One sweater and a cat.
For very cold weather:
Two cats.
For extremely cold weather:
Three cats.
For catastrophic conditions:
Four cats and a blanket.
There is absolutely no need for five layers of clothing.
Unless...
You are planning to carry us outside.
Then perhaps take the coat.
And the scarf.
And the gloves.
And the boots.
Actually, take everything.
πΎ Final Thoughts From Gryzka
I have now watched another human winter begin.
The sweaters are out.
The coats are hanging by the door.
The scarves are everywhere.
Socks are multiplying.
The heating is on.
The blankets have returned.
And humans are still saying:
“I'm cold.”
Meanwhile, I am stretched across the sofa in my magnificent fur coat.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Elegant.
Completely dressed.
I look at the human.
She looks at me.
“You're so lucky, Gryzka.”
Yes.
I am.
Because I don't spend November standing in front of a wardrobe saying:
“I have nothing to wear.”
I have everything I need.
It came attached to me.
π―πΎ
Now please stop complaining about the cold.
You have seven sweaters.
And I have one cushion.
We both have problems.
Love,
Gryzka π―
Chief Feline Fashion Consultant
Director of Natural Insulation
Owner of One Fur Coat and Several Human Sweaters

No comments:
Post a Comment