Things go on in this way, in the cold winter, until it begins to get dark outdoors. Then, if one is a cat, one bestirs oneself. Because it is now time to go and visit Peter. Petey, that is. Petey is the opossum who lives beneath the cabin deck. These days are hard for him, because opossums are not well equipped by Mother Nature for these old-fashioned Minnesota winter temperatures. So Koda goes to visit. To check on Petey. Kathy, doyenne of the cabin-in-the-woods, also daily puts little scraps of this and that out for Petey’s benefit. But it is Koda who goes to check on him.

At these times Koda is gone for an hour, maybe two. We occasionally see him wandering around with Peter, out in the cabin yard or at the edge of the woods. But mostly they are under the deck together.

We do not know what goes on under there. Tea, perhaps. Crumpets if they have them. Conversations about the state of things—’Why is this thus? And what is the meaning of this thusness?’ We don’t really know—we can only imagine. But we are proud of Koda, checking on his neighbor, staying outdoors for an hour or two in the below zero cold. It is a Minnesota thing, you know. And a lot of it happening these days.

Koda, although living with us in the cabin where the TV is often on and the News regularly consumed, is probably not very aware of the state of things in our good state. Does not know how vitally important Minnesota neighborliness has become in this cold winter of ‘26. Does not know about assaults on freezing and shivering but stalwart people who are trying to help one another. Defend one another.

But he knows enough—is enough of a good citizen—to check on little Petey, his neighbor. To spend time with him. To simply be there.

It seems a lot of Minnesotans know this. And always have. And that it is a shock to outsiders, who come in with their long coats and big boots and helmets and masks, expecting Minnesotans to simply melt away. Yeah, we don’t do that much. We are more likely to bring ‘hot dish’. To organize rides to school or to work, to blow whistles to alert our neighbors of danger, just as our blue jays and chickadees do here in the woods. We’re more likely to hang together, in solidarity and in defiance. And in simple neighborliness.

Koda and Petey don’t know too much about all that. But like all the citizens of the woods, they know how to live together, despite their differences. How to be neighbors. How to survive the icy cold together.

And we in the cabin, watching the news with a mixture dread and pride, we sometimes look over at Koda-the-Forest-Kitten in his cat tree. Having his nap. Calm and serene in his cat world of cat things, dreaming cat dreams. And we smile. It is good to be reminded of calm and simple things. It is good to feel warm, unconditional love and listen to a soft purr. It is good to have a touch of normality in this Minnesota winter. And to hope that things will become warmer with the spring thaw and ICE-out. And that we can all spend normal time with our good neighbors once again. Like Petey and Koda. Safely.

(This is my latest Substack post. Please subscribe to me there at Notes From The Campfire@douglaswoodauthor CLICK HERE to follow and subscribe.  Thanks!)