Catsicle

He slipped out the back door, and we did not see him for two full days. The temperature dropped dramatically, it was close to freezing those two nights. We figured, too bad, the little bugger had it made, with us, and now he'll be a catsicle or a catsplat in the road...So we gave up on him, and went to the Humane Society, and adopted a bouncing bruiser named Smokey.

'The cat's gone,' my father said. 'Face it, that cat can hardly stay alive inside the house. She's not coming back. And if you hold the door open much longer, the rest of us will freeze to death too.' 'Poppy!' my stepmother shouted. 'She's frozen now,' I said helpfully. 'She's a catsicle.'

I know for damn sure watching catsicles form outside my kitchen window would drive me out of my mind with guilt.