I can tell it's cold because my feet really warmed up all day, the van is making the rudest noises imaginable and the cat is in his "meatloaf" pose.
Back in the summer I told you about The Cat Thermometer, whereby Toby behaves as a reasonable gauge for determining the overall temperature. He continues in that vein, only now he compacts himself so tightly in an effort to conserve body heat that he appears to have suffered some horrible industrial accident and is entirely without limbs. In effect, he looks like a giant, furry meatloaf with a head:
This is the front view. I know it's a little difficult to see that his paws are folded in the front and completely invisible, but that's because they are completely invisible.
Side view. Note the abscence of tail. (And the appallingly dirty window behind him.)
Top view. Most like a meatloaf. Everything is tucked in nicely and there is no danger of having any of his appendages falling off with frostbite. You can just see him in a loaf pan, no?
In these pictures, he is sitting in his favorite indoor spot, the front window, which conveniently looks out onto the street. (Also, not so conveniently, the coldest spot in the whole freaking house.) From this post he can survey the neighbourhood and carefully scrutinize the area for any ne'er-do-wells or That Striped Bastard from the next crescent over. (Which is a cat, in case you were wondering, not a person.) In the event that he does spy anyone untoward, he will fix it with a penetrating stare and give them the stink-eye and they will know who's boss.
He is, suitably, sitting in a box with a blanket, which is the cat equivalent of a Laz-E-Boy recliner, I should think.
The meatloaf pose would indicate that a Canadian winter is well and truly here, and that hibernation is, perhaps, the best of all ideas. I couldn't agree more.