Mom Sez:
Slowly, Gato made his way along the ledge beneath the window of their small crowded room. All this backing and forthing along the ledge seemed to be taking two weeks. Gato had brought Le Prof’soor’s paper back to the other dogs and told them the special knock to knock so that Le Prof’soor would let them into his room down the hall. Now all Gato had to do was navigate this ledge, which was exceedingly narrow even for an athletic cat like himself. His centimetering around the rectangular circumference of the little inn was making him nostalgic for his the espionage days of his kittenhood.
“Huh,” thought Gato to himself. (We ar tranzlaytin fer yu. Kthxbai.) “I seem to has gaynd som weyt on mai travlz. It musta ben all thoz taystee fishiz that them Greek fishrmen caugt fer us on the boat. I’m goin to has to start dietin wen this partiklr adventchoor is ovr.”
When he was halfway around the building, he heard a sound that sounded…almost…like steel drums and maracas…
But, gosh, were the odds of that?
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