It was my idea.

Our little band of friends had already made a perfectly decent snowman out of three huge, dense mounds, a carrot, and a couple of beans. We could have – we should have – stopped there. But no… I said he had to have a pet to keep him company.

So we set to work clumping the perfect, moist snow together to form a snow cat.

Two lumps and done, right? Maybe three. So you’d think. But for some reason, it just didn’t look right.

The snow cat was too low to the ground – you couldn’t make it out – so we trampled the snow all ’round down flat.

The snow cat seemed too dense and not at all furry, so we carefully sprinkled loose snow all over his body.

The snow cat’s face did not look like a face, I thought, so I brought out a tangerine peel for his mouth and dark pink buttons for his eyes.

The snow cat still did not look right, I thought, so I got a red marker and drew on a tongue, which looked like flames.

Now the snow cat looked spiteful, so we draped fronds from potted palms around to soften the scene.

Suddenly, the snowman appeared to be rich, which had not been out original aim, but there was no going back, so we had to find him a top hat.

This continued for hours, our front yard scene getting fancier and dangerously fancier. It was as if the whole day had been held for ransom by the snow cat! Every time we’d change something, there would be plural other things needing to be altered…

Then came at last that magic moment when all seemed just right. We watched in a hush as Dahlia added the finishing touch: she replaced the snow cat’s lame snow tail with her sister’s purple feather boa.

We all stepped back to admire our creation.

Just then, it began to rain.

 

…written to Sunday’s Whirligig and The Sunday Whirl…