id you guys ever hear of a place called Fish Island?” he asked.
While the other
part of the gang was on the other side of the world trying to figure out how in
the meow to get out of the mess they were in, Fish Island was ready to rock or getting ready that is. It seemed like that many, many animals were
coming to the paw-ty. As a matter of
fact, it seemed like any animal that was free was heading to the island for fun.
Now, wait
a meow-minute!
How was
that even paws-ible?
Isn’t Fish Island kind of on the small
side? I’m sure you pictured it that
way. After all, how much space do these
kitties need? Meeee-ow… In the end, what
did it matter? I’m no mapmaker or a
landscape person but it was paw-mazing how the island seemed to expand to suit
all guests and ‘paw-ty’ animals.
But hold
your whiskers! There’s another huge
question to consider!
How in the
meow did everybody find out about this paw-ty?
Well, that
answer actually has a purry, easy answer.
Hank. Mee-huh? You heard it right, Hank. Hank, who seemed like he needed some fun had
been swimming all over the place telling everyone and everything that Fish Island was free of those stupid
birds and it was time to paw-ty till dawn!
Hank had Pony Express beaten by a longshot. Meeee-ow.
Casey was
worried though. About what? Well, the answer was paw-vious. He couldn’t figure out what happened to the
rest of the purry gang. It didn’t seem
like it would be much of a paw-ty without them.
“We should
go look for them,” he meowed to the Mayor.
The Mayor
looked at him like he was demented. “Whut
iz you nutz? We can’t goes backz there.”
Casey’s
whiskers twitched. “Why can’t we?”
“Bepaws it’s
a stupid idea,” the Mayor answered.
Casey was
getting mad. “You’ve been rolling around
in the pickled fish, haven’t you?”
The Mayor
looked at him strangely. “You iz imagining
stuff.”
“Then why
aren’t you worried about them?” he
asked.
pickled fish.....ya noe....that act shoo a lee soundz kinda good .... ☺☺♥♥
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