Now is the time of year when cats become radiator queens. By this I mean that my permakitten Grace has utterly abandoned me for her new paramour, Radiator. “So warm, so undemanding,” I hear her purr when she doesn’t think I am listening. Even when she’s not luxuriating by Radiator’s side, I catch her sending it cat kisses–those slow blinks she once reserved for me. Despite myself, I feel rejected. I am a radiator widow. Hear me mew.