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.