Cold Winter Night (and a Little Bit of a Rant)

I wasn't going to write and post this.  I really wasn't.  I truly had another post in mind to finish up this evening, but thoughts and words are bubbling up inside me, demanding to be spilled.  Against my better judgment, I'm going to let them out...

So, it's cold.

Anyone who's had even a tiny part of their brain tuned into the news or the weather forecast or people's conversations, etc. has heard about this polar vortex swirling down from the far north, bringing record-breaking low temperatures to much of our country.  This afternoon it reached its icy hands into Virginia; and as I worked in the kitchen, I noticed a lower temperature on the thermometer right outside the kitchen window every time I glanced at it.

It's cold.

But!  It's not as if we've never experienced cold like this here in my corner of the world.  From weather maps, I can see that certain parts of the U.S. were and are astonishingly, dangerously cold, so I understand the caution that prompts people, businesses, schools, the government, and so forth to change plans and adjust normal life to take into account the weather.  However, I'm pretty sure that every winter, my town gets temps that are in the single digits, if not in the negative--maybe not for long, but at least a night or two or three.  I certainly haven't kept a detailed weather log during our 8+ years here; but from this post, I see that it was 8 degrees in January of 2008, and the following year, this post shows a temperature of 1.  Yet there has seemed to be an overabundance of caution, bordering on panic, in the air as we've watched this storm approach, and I wonder, "How much of this is warranted?"

This morning, our county schools operated on a two-hour delay.  I don't have the foggiest idea why they did so, since there wasn't a drop of precipitation that I could see and the temperature wasn't even below freezing.  As a matter of fact, it was warm during the night--rather odd to watch the numbers on the thermometer climb as darkness fell and the night wore on.  I believe it topped out at 48 degrees, around 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning--strange.  Anyway, why did the schools go late today?  I readily acknowledge that there may very well be good reasons for the delay, even if I'm not aware of them; and I definitely don't envy the job of those who have to make weather-related decisions, knowing that there will always be people who disagree with whatever decision is made.  So I'm really not trying to throw stones here!!  I read an article tonight listing reasons for the delay that's already been announced for tomorrow; and since our temperature right now is about 4 degrees, I completely understand the need for a little extra time in the morning to make sure everything is running OK (heating systems in the schools, buses, etc.).  And bottom line, I don't care if the county schools have a delay every day; we do, too.  Welcome to my homeschooling life!!  ;-)

But I do think we're freaking out a little bit, myself included.  Today, for example, I felt like every time I heard another news report about the weather, I instantly felt like I needed to go to the woodstove to see if I could make room to shove another piece of wood in.  As a result, by the time we finished supper and Josiah and David got ready to practice violin (in the living room, where the woodstove is), the temperature inside our house was 77 degrees.  David who wasn't even wearing a shirt said, "Can you please turn the fan on? I'm burning up!"  :)  An hour or so later, the temperature had risen further to 79.9.  Oops.  I guess I didn't do a good job of regulating the amount of heat pouring out of the (overstuffed) woodstove.  :)

So if I'm poking fun at anyone for over-the-top preparations, I'm poking it at myself.  :)

But let me turn the conversation a little and get into my real rant of the night.  (Oh no!)

After I tucked all the kids in bed and finished the dishes, I sat down at the computer and opened Facebook.  As I scrolled through my news feed, I got more and more annoyed.  Why?  Because of all the posts saying, in essence, "It's cold out there.  Don't forget to bring your pets in from outside."  The pictures of half-dead, snow-and-ice-caked, rib-bones-sticking-out dogs and cats were an added touch.

Let me tell you something.  I brought our pet in from outside.

 Jed came in, ate a yummy supper, was given a doggie treat...

 ...chewed on a rawhide bone, and received lots of hands-on affection.

 I had to smile and whip out the camera when I looked through the hole in the wall between the kitchen and living room and saw Jeff and Jed together.  ;-)

Sweet, right?

But then what did Jed do?  He wanted to go out.

Not just a five-second pee break, but a please-let-me-return-to-my-home-in-the-pasture kind of go-out.  So that makes us terrible pet owners, right?

Wrong.

When you live in the country surrounded by farms, you are reminded of the fact that God made animals to withstand the elements.  I've never heard of a herd of cows around here perishing in a cold snap, neither have I heard of a farmer bringing them all into his house on a zero-degree night to keep them warm.  God actually created cows in such a way that their bodies adapt to the weather, and they are prepared for such extreme dips of temperature.  So are the chickens we have in our pen--in previous winters when the nights have been so cold, we've never had a single chicken freeze.  Our first dog Molly has always been an outdoor dog; in fact, she gets uneasy indoors and much prefers to be outside.  She, too, has never frozen to death in any of our previous winters.  ;-)

Before I go further, let me say two things.  First, I firmly believe the truth of Proverbs 12:10 that "the righteous care for the needs of their animals."  I am not endorsing in any way, shape, or form the abuse of an animal.  Tonight in this bitter cold and on every night and day, we make sure that our animals have shelter, food, and water; and we never, ever kick our pets or take any anger out on them.  There are really horrible cruelties that are done to animals, and that saddens me.  What I'm suggesting tonight, however, is that allowing a loved pet to be outside on such a night is not necessarily a cruelty!

Second, clearly there are certain pets that would have a very difficult time staying alive if they were outdoors tonight.  Chihuahuas come to mind--a dog that, without man's intervention, wouldn't have ended up here in Virginia in the first place.  I'm not saying that you should leave any old pet outside; common sense tells us otherwise.  But some animals are really and truly made for this.  Have you felt a collie's fur, for example?  There's got to be some good use for all that mess!  ;-)

Think about St Bernard dogs and the amazing, snowy rescues they've made throughout history.  Think about Alaskan sled dogs and the way they withstand amazingly cold, windy conditions.  Closer to home, think about the little wild rabbit I saw under our lilac bushes this afternoon; somewhere he's got a cozy burrow, and I'm sure he'll make it through this night safely.  Think of the whitetail deer that inhabit the woods across the field from us; where do they go when it's cold?  Think of the barn cats that roam the neighborhood (which I'm always grateful to see because they are very helpful in eliminating any mice problems around here); they're not inside anyone's home tonight, yet they're just fine.

Think about these things.

Before you assume that anyone who leaves his pet outside on such a night is a heartless, terrible person, take a moment and consider.

Is it possible that we use personification* entirely too much?  Is it possible that it distorts our view of reality, causing us to, when we think of a, say, goat in a drafty shed on a cold night like this, picture our own selves there in that shed, shivering and miserable, close to death?

*  "the attribution of human nature or character to animals, inanimate objects, or abstract notions, especially as a rhetorical figure"

I think the answer is yes.  From my own experience, I can attest to the fact that, to give only one example, reading Max Lucado's sweet book The Oak inside the Acorn made me suddenly grieve the fact that thousands of little acorns were feeling afraid as they fell from their mother's arms.  And then I shook myself and said, "For goodness' sake, Davene, THEY'RE ACORNS!!!"  :)

Now I'm not denying the fact that dogs and cats are in a different category from acorns.  ;-)  But maybe once in a while, we need to shake ourselves and say, "They're animals."

If my collie Jed could personify to the point of talking tonight, I'm pretty sure he would let us know that, although he's grateful for the warmth of the fire and the softness of the rug, although he loves having his back scratched and looks forward to the next time, although the treat was yummy and he's happy to have a full tummy, he'd really rather spend the night outside with his best buddy Molly.  After all, there is ground to cover, there are scents to smell, and if he's lucky, there might even be a random cat to chase.

He might even say, "I was made for this."