Other pussy types were also found on our street. They too were burden with the shift in weather. The warm temps had said "Welcome Spring!" but the truth was it is still winter.
As a poem I read put it:
March I hate you
You are holding hands with spring
But you are married to winter.
Missy had visited via a walk through the snow.
What a long cold walk she had on her way to visit such a heartless neighbor!