Long ago, the children came up with a name for the intuitive animals that somehow sense when the chips are down and something warm, furry and fluffy is called for...the girls dub such animals Company Director and in our homes, it always boils down to a cat.
At the farm last weekend, soft, white Alaska and former Wild Child Ranga both took on role of Company Director though Ranga was almost immediately fired from the job on account of his appalling wind.
In Amberley, retired farm dog Jess snuggles on her own sleeping bag on the floor beside Soph, while inherited elderly cat Pepsi has stepped up to the plate, literally and figuratively, and assigned himself the task of chatting to me cattily in the wee smalls. 
Pepsi came free with the house, or he probably prefers to think he was a valuable chattel for which an undisclosed sum was paid.  He has two cat doors to select from and the one he prefers at night is outstandingly noisy and very close to Claire's bed.  After smashing his way in, he howls that awful 'lonely cat' yeowl, which goes from a cry (I'll give it a crack - wowwellhell) to a question (merrowell?) if you speak back to him.
Christmas is sure a-coming....houses are putting their decorations up and in a few more days I think we can take an after-dark stroll around the streets to admire the handiwork.  I also think I may develop an eggnog habit.  With nutmeg. Oh, how I live on the edge!
"Yet with the woes of sin and strife,
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
Oh, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!"
It Came Upon the Mightnight Clear, traditional Christmas carol