ESCAPEES

“How did we get ourselves into this mess?” wondered Juneau, his stomach growling in anticipation of the next meal. Making his way through the tall stalks of bee balm, bending under the weight of an earlier downpour, this little fraidy cat seemed on the verge of a total meltdown.

Sitka, on the other hand, sauntered along the winding path ahead of his brother, intent on smelling every petal…leaf…twig…and clump of mulch. You name it; he smelled it. “This is heavenly,” he thought.

As he continued along, gulping in as much fresh air as his lungs would allow, Sitka meowed for the world to hear…”Free at last! Thank God Almighty! We are free at last!”

Meanwhile, Misha, the leader of the pack, ambled confidently ahead of the others. His swagger seemed a challenge, as if daring one and all to…”Try and stop me! Just you try!” He it was who had made a beeline for the back door when it was unwittingly left ajar. He’d peered at the outside world through the window panes on the French door. Now he was determined to experience all its delights…firsthand. No more playing like…”Alice through the looking glass.”

“If only those two slow pokes wouldn’t have come with me” thought Misha. “I’d have been into the next yard by now.” Muttering to himself, he added “I don’t even like those half-breeds.” Not being purebred Maine Coones like himself, Misha tended to stick his nose in the air when the three boys found themselves in one another’s company. Although Misha did need to check them out from time to time, by way of sniffing…their butts.

“I can’t go any further!” complained Juneau to his fellow escapees. Moaning to himself, he added “There’s nothing to eat out here.” He had to admit that even his bowl of bland, diet kibble was better than nothing. “If and when I get back inside,” gulped Juneau, “I’ll be ever so grateful. I won’t try to sneak a few bites of Sitka’s food. I won’t body slam Mocha. I won’t pick fights with Misha that I know I can’t win. I won’t drive Hugmamma crazy with my constant meowing.”

Juneau prayed hard.

Unfazed, Sitka lay down on a piece of slate warmed by the noonday sun. “Oh, this is just divine,” he purred to himself. Oblivious to his partners-in-crime, Sitka bathed himself, licking his silky coat to undo some of the spider webs he’d encountered.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a red squirrel was in front of Misha. At home on his own turf, the rodent raised himself up on his haunches as if threatening to lash out at Misha. Neither blinked. Seconds passed.

And then…Misha bolted! Without looking back, he squeezed through the door which had nearly slammed shut in an unexpected gust of wind.

Juneau followed in hot pursuit, leaving Sitka to wonder what all the commotion was about. Little did he suspect that there’d be a huge fuss once Hugmamma learned he was missing.

” SITKA!!!