Rachet slipped into the basement and wound through the junk to the heating pipes. She was settled comfortably in the environs of Roxville. She had a First Home， a Sunning Spot on the grass near the tire， and a Hunting Lookout in the woods near the bridge where the mice were abundant. She also had a Second Home in case Queenella chased her out of the basement—her tire.
　　 She rarely saw Ringx， the racoon， on her nightly prowls， for the air had grown colder and had readied her for winter’s semihibernation. The crickets had long ago stopped singing. The monarch butterfly was on a pine needle in the mountains north of Mexico City with millions of its kind. Their forest seemed to breathe with the opening and closing of butterfly wings.
　　 In January all the butterflies would turn from “it’s” to “he’s or she’s.” They would mate， and then the seemingly fragile butterflies would fly all the way north to the fields and gardens where they had been born.
　　 Meanwhile Shifty， the red fox， was finding rats and mice scarce and wanted to go after wild turkeys. Aware of his intentions， the turkeys roosted in tree limbs， not on the ground. A coyote wandered from his home to the west of town， smelled them， and leaped to reach them. He might have gotten one on the next try had not a train roared into the station and frightened him. He sped to his home territory.
　　 Not until February， a wet， cold month， did Rachet find food getting scarce enough to send her off to the station for the Bent Lady’s cat food feast.
　　 One day at the station Rachet came too close to Ice Bucket and spit at her. Ice Bucket spit back. Rachet hissed and laid back her ears. With that， Ice Bucket drew back， and the battle was over. Rachet moved up another step on the hierarchy ladder. It was a ritual her ancient ancestors had evolved when there were many solitary wild Kaffir cats at the Egyptian granaries. It was their way to ensure food and breeding rights.
　　 At six-thirty in the morning after a mouseless night， Rachet was in the passageway of the stone foundation， waiting for enough time to pass before she followed Queenella to the cat food cans. In the kitchen upstairs， where Mike was getting himself cereal for breakfast， the radio played music， then stopped.
　　 While lying in the passageway waiting to go outside， Rachet saw large flakes falling. More and more fell until the sky was white. Being a cat， she reached out and caught one. It turned to water. She caught more. They， too， melted. Curious and amused， she caught falling snowflakes until Queenella suddenly leaped back inside through the broken glass in the window well. The snow had turned her back from the station. As she reentered she hissed in Rachet’s direction. “Mind your rank，” she was saying.
　　拉齊特溜进了地下室，绕过那些废品，来到暖气管这里。她已经在罗克斯维尔的环境中舒舒服服地安顿下来。她有一个“老家”，一个靠近轮胎的草地上的“晒太阳处”，还有一个“狩猎瞭望处”，在大桥附近的树林里，那里有足够多的老鼠。万一女王艾拉把她赶出地下室，她还有一个“备用老家”——她的轮胎。
　　夜间觅食的时候，她很少看到浣熊林克斯，因为天气变冷了，林克斯已经准备进入冬天的半冬眠状态。蟋蟀早就停止了歌唱。黑脉金斑蝶也已不在，它们去了墨西哥城北边的山里，跟数百万的同类在一起，落在松针上。蝴蝶的翅膀开开合合，让森林看起来像是在呼吸。
　　一月份，所有的蝴蝶都会结束单身，找到自己的伴侣。他们会交配，然后，这些看似柔弱的蝴蝶会一路向北，飞越千山万水回到他们出生的田野和花园。
　　与此同时，赤狐希夫蒂发现田鼠和家鼠难觅，就试图捕猎野生火鸡。火鸡察觉了赤狐的意图，就到树枝上栖息，而不是地上。一只郊狼离开狼窝游荡到小镇西边，嗅到了火鸡，就跳起来去够火鸡。他再跳一次，也许就会抓到一只火鸡，不料一辆火车轰鸣着进站把他吓跑了。他飞奔回自己的领地。
　　直到潮湿寒冷的二月份，拉齐特才发现食物越来越少，她不得不回到火车站，来吃那个驼背夫人的猫食大餐。
　　有一天，拉齐特在车站上靠冰桶太近，还朝她吐了一口。冰桶反过来朝她吐了一口。拉齐特嘶嘶叫着，耳朵朝后折过去。看到这情形，冰桶后退，战斗结束。如此，拉齐特在猫咪王国又上了一个阶层。这种仪式从她的祖先那里演化而来。当时的埃及谷仓里，有很多非洲野猫独来独往。这种方式能保证他们有食物和交配权。
　　一天早上六点半，在一晚上都没有抓到老鼠之后，拉齐特待在石头地基的过道里，耐心等待女王艾拉从此经过，然后可以跟着她去车站吃猫食。楼上的厨房里，迈克正在给自己做麦片粥早餐。收音机里放着音乐，然后又停了。
　　拉齐特躺在过道里等待外出，这时她看到有大片的雪花飘落下来。越来越多的雪花落下来，天空一片白茫茫。拉齐特有猫咪好奇的天性，伸爪出去，抓住了一片雪花。雪花化成了水。拉齐特再抓。雪花又都融化了。拉齐特觉得又好奇又有趣，于是不停地抓飘落的雪花，直到女王艾拉突然从窗户井的破玻璃处跳了进来。大雪让她从火车站返回家中。艾拉进来时，朝着拉齐特嘶嘶叫。“注意你的等级身份。”她是在说。