July and the South of the South is deep in winter. The Tabbysinian wrestles with an umbrella. I'm beginning to wish he would use it, and put on some gumboots too, because there is a lot of mud at this time of year on the farm, and after being out for his daily outings he comes in sometimes with mud up to his elbows, and there are pawprints left everywhere.
Last weekend when I was doing my taxes at the last minute as usual, and I had all the documents spread all over the largest table in the house, he leapt up and affixed his muddy pawprint on every page. I hope the Inland Revenue recognise the authority of his stamp of approval.
According to the famous mathematical thought experiment, Schroedinger's cat is neither dead nor alive. So it's a cool concept if you don't like being locked into binaries. Not so good if you don't like being locked into a lethal booby-trapped box. And from the cat's point of view, there is no ambiguity at all.