The Girl Cat is either tough as nails or very opinionated. She finds herself mortally offended by the noises the domicile's gas stove occasionally makes, and such is her sense of outrage at the disturbance she finds it necessary to demand access to the frost bitten outdoors whenever the gas stove chooses to remind the rest of us of its often unappreciated genius. And I have examined the bottom of the Girl Cat's feet, she has nothing remotely resembling a sock on any one of them, so for her it's kind of like walking around outside in bare feet. A late realization for me, but I should have had some inkling from her behavior around wet grass, she didn't like it when she first experienced it, and she still finds it a source of irritation.
As I understand it, she's a Mackerel Orange Patched Tabby, it makes no sense to
me either, but clearly the Girl Cat like our hero and through no fault of her
own, suffers from ancestors who wantonly and in a very aimless manner wandered
north. Probably during some warming event and great fun to sneer at the hard
shinned, woolly footed, until the cold north resumed its reach for empire. The
more gentle and caring amongst us have considered knitting some kind of cat like
foot wear for her, but in my view it's the opinionated part of the Girl Cat's
nature that will more than likely reject the idea with the same disdain she
reserves for anything like heat from the gas stove. But one thing's for sure,
she'd never blame the FBI.