Part Two:The Catch

 The sun climbed high in the new morning sky, a creamy swirl of pink pastels and light purple swayed above. Sherlock and Sasha were hidden deep in the grass, spying a plump squirrel that would serve as first-time prey, for Sherlock that is. When Sherlock and Sasha had first met, she offered to teach him hunt to hunt like a real pro. Now it was time to test his skills.
 
 The grass, long and slender,harboured many insects squirming about including a butterfly. Sasha did not know this, but Sherlock had a deep fascination for butterflys ( in particular monarchs).

As they crept closer to the plump squirrel, Sasha diligently coached Sherlock and gave him tips.
 "Keep your focus on the squirrel, and only the squirrel. Ensure that the wind is blowing in the other direction when you make your catch, that way your scent will be masked."
 Sherlock nodded his head and watched intently, hind paws needing the ground in anticipation. But yet this sensation ( quite strong,in fact ) kept drawing his attention to the butterfly, who was now perched high above a blossom tree.

 While the squirrel kept his position on the tree branch, nibbling on a tasty chestnut, Sasha, signaling with a twitch of her tail to Sherlock, crept forward.  "Sherlock, watch him closely. Pretty soon he will be done with his nibbling and head to a higher branch in search of more snacks. We need to gain on him.. and fast. Here's the plan: when I say "go" you creep behind the tree, and slowly gain on him. Before he has time to escape, I will already be in front, and together we will have him cornered."
 "Okay, sounds great." Sherlock replied, half to himself. The truth is, as much as he wanted the pride and victory of catching his first kill, his full attention was on that bright,bold butterfly crawling about the blossoms. He still had the mindset of a house-cat, and as house-cats are, they love butterflies, or really any vibrant colored creature that would grab their attention.

Sasha and Sherlock, shoulder to shoulder, crouched belly flat on the ground, slowly creeping up on their prey. The squirrel took no notice of them and was happily nibbling away on yet another chestnut, luckily he remained on the same branch.
They began to gain on the squirrel, each paw step as silent as air. Everything around them was silent and displayed no evidence of the two hunters. Even the grass, quickly collecting dew in the early morning hours, was as still as a stone.
Pretty soon they reached the foot of the tree, luckily hidden under the  grass. Watching carefully, to make sure the squirrel still hadn't taken notice of them, Sasha whispered in Sherlock's ear "go!". With that, she quickly slipped around to the other side of the tree, making her plan fall in to place. Sherlock, alone, crept behind the tree and made his climb. Keeping his footing steady, and watching the squirrel, he began to reach higher and higher until at last he was right behind his prey. Then, as Sasha jumped in front of the squirrel, Sherlock made his move, about to catch his first prey until... something caught his attention that sent both the squirrel and Sherlock scrambling away.

Night Prowlers: Part One

Sherlock slipped out of his cat tree and out into the wild. First, it was awkward ( just a little) for him to adjust to all the different textures found outside ( he's used to soft carpet and wood floors ) , but soon he got used to it and before long he was out and about exploring! There was SOO much he did... to much to blog! But, I will give you a taste of Sherlock's "life on the line"
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The sky was a dark, dark deep blue, much darker than when Sherlock had first decided to venture outside. The sights, sounds, everything, was way different than he had  expected. Stars glistened from afar off and he heard the slimy slick squeeze of a gardener snake pushing into a small crevice. There was danger, but yet excitement, all at once.
He felt all alone in this big world-- danger creeping from every corner-- but yet he had this great desire to go out and explore!
With the moon yawning in the sky, Sherlock peered to his left: nothing there but the spooky yet mystifying shadows. He closed his eyes and listened, intently, for what creatures might be prowling about: the high-pitched squeak gave away the tiny gray mouse hobbling about in the rock, the chirp and jump sounded similar to a cricket, and--what was that!-- crunching leaves under paw: A cat!
Sherlock listened even closer now, making sure what he heard was not pretend. There it goes again! The crunch crunch of leaves and swirl,swirl in the wind must be its tail! Sherlock, sure what he was hearing was real, opened his eyes and crouched belly onto the earth floor, trying ( although he had no experience ) to blend in with his surroundings. He focused all his energy on seeking out this cat-- a possible friend: mew pal, teaching him the ropes of outdoor living... or an intruder? A vicious 4 legged enemy who had the hunt of the battle in his eyes and viciously sharp teeth--who ever it may be.
Intently, he crawled forward, leaning his ears and eyes towards where the sound was coming from. Because it was night, and Sherlock, being a spoiled house-cat, had no real knowledge of the natural skills ( hunting and defense) that out-door cats were born with, assumed he would blend right in. His bright yellow fur surely would go unnoticed.
He continued on.. slowly yet steadily making his way towards the sound... while feeling inside him bubbled up: What if it attacks me? How do I know I will be safe? How will I defend myself? Sherlock was beginning to think that this little "adventure" he had planned out was a bad idea, and was contemplating whether or not he should take his chances or head back into the safety of his home, when suddenly something, a quick moment, had him stop in his tracks.
 
The grass, just then, seemed twice as longer, each blade the length of  his tail. He crouched even lower, fear bubbling up inside him, and waited What else am I supposed to do? Make a run for it?
Then the lean figure appeared from behind the oak tree, slinking out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Sherlock gazed up at the sky, When I open my eyes , the danger will all be gone and there will be nothing to worry about! Then I can stay here like a real wildcat roaming the terrain with nothing to worry about. He tried to convince himself that there wasnothing to worry  about but as  much as Sherlock wished to stay, he knew it  was too dangerous to risk straying any further from home ( although he still hadn't left his back yard.) He has always been one to risk fun for safety, no matter how adventurous it may be. Like all in-door cats, he wanted to be  a part of the fun and excitement found in the out-side world, but he sure didn't want to get caught up in some tough tom cat battle! He assumed the cat hadn't seen him, and this was his chance to escape and head back home. Only the cat had seen him, and he was walking right towards him! With one glance, as Sherlock slowly moved around toward home, the cat pounced! He jumped into the air, his eyes glistened with the heat of the battle in his eyes, and landed right  on a scared Sherlock

"Get off me!" Sherlock yowled, "I am not your prey you crazy tom cat!"
  The cat, clearly amused, stepped off Sherlock and sat beside, grooming herself.
"For starters," she began coolly, " I am a female. And secondly, who said you were my prey? I'm Tasha, the cat next door, and I am NOT a wild cat, if that was what you were thinking. Let's be friends!"
Sherlock, unsure of what to make of this, slowly began to sit up and then started to speak
" I'm Sherlock, and I am a house-cat. This is my first time outdoors, and I'm used to humans and safety, not wilderness and adventure. Did you say you were NOT a wild cat?"
  "That's right", Tasha replied calmly " I am a house-cat myself. Live over there" She motioned with her head towed her home " I see I got you a little started there. Don't worry, I won't bite.  I remember the first time I ventured outdoors, I was just like you! Scared, worried, but yet completely set on finding adventure and fun. It's not so bad once you get used to it. I consider the outdoors my home....."
After Tasha finished a looooong story, so long it seemed the sun was about to dawn any minute, she asked "Hey, you seem a little hungry. Would you like me to catch you something? I'm a great hunter-- and I'm not bragging!"
 
" Well, I am feeling a bit hungry now that you mention it... Hey, would you mind teaching me how to hunt?" He asked, half calmly, half excitedly.
 "Sure! I'd love to teach you how to catch prey!" With that Tasha gave Sherlock a small head  bump and they headed off into the wilderness, tail and tail.

Prologue: Night Prowlers

 Dark  black clouds swayed across the deep blue moon, silhouetted against the starry night sky.
It was night fall and  the air was vibrating with excitement as all the creatures ventured out of their homes to prowl about the night--seeking out what mystery may be waiting.

 June bugs buzzed, squirrels jumped to and fro chestnut trees, and the fireflies provided light for the dark path that lay ahead. 

 Sherlock gazed out his window. It seemed spooky out there. Trees swayed by the ominous breeze, bugs and other creatures crawled about, a dark figure lurked in to shadows.  But yet he felt an intense desire to venture out and see what the night had in store. The idea of prowling about the night--making new friends, discovering new things--entranced him. He had to discover what was out there. He had to find out now.


     His street smart cat pals were always exhilarating him with wild stories of their deep, risky night adventures: The time they almost caught a squirrel, were chased after by a dog, a human spotted them and (almost!) captured them. These events sounded fun and exciting, with an element of dangerous adventure. He wanted to be a a part of it. He was tired of being  stuck inside his house, looked after by his humans, and never earning the privilege of getting a taste of the real world: life on the line, fending for himself, embarking on dangerous expeditions. The thought itself  had him worked up already! It was the life every cat dreamed of!

  Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of his cat tree and made one proud leap onto the window seal. Unsheathing his claw, he dug a deep scratch on the screen, causing it to give in and collapse.  Gazing over his shoulder to make sure his pals had not noticed his "escape", he then slide out of the window and into night.  It was time to discover the secrets and fun of  what his lion ancestors experienced: The hunt, the freedom, the excitement.

                                           It is time to embrace the inner-feline wildcat.

Part Two: The narrow escape, the unlikely comeback

All 3 cats stared, horrified, at the door. Pelts bristling, eyes open wide, they didn't move an inch as the massive dog sniffed, sucking in the cat's scent, on the other side of the door.  Another intense sniff came from the door, each one sounding like an earthquake, then another, and another, until finally....BOOM!!!!!!! The dog burst through the door, sending splinters flying through the air. His massive shoulders and boulder-like head betrayed his strong determination. The cats, eyes glued to the dog, stared. They didn't know what to do.  The dog stared back, and for one teeny moment they, cats and dog, gazed at one another without the smallest  hint of danger.

 Then, slowly, Sherlock, making his unwise move, crept away out of his cat tree and onto the open window: this was his escape route.
          Gazing back, and seeing the others had not sensed his departure, he exchanged a final silent glance with his pals, Ash and Travler, before attempting to bounce away.   
                                                               Too late.
The dog, sensing his immediate chance, launched himself into the air and hurled past, nearly gripping the cat in his jaws.   The others, utterly defeated, scrambled this way and that, trying to save their pal in a vain attempt.  It was then the Ash made her move.  

 With the dog scrambling off the ground trying again to reach Sherlock from the window, Ash seized her chance. Although Ash, merely the size of an adult cat, was not match for this huge beast, she had a secret power in store--one that would turn this  beastly dog into nothing more than a terrified  kitten: feline super powers!

Ash bounded towards the dog,  her eyes glittering with determination. Her tail fluffed up half her full size, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, she was a true wild cat. 

Ash: The hero

The dog effortlessly extended a large paw which in turn he assumed would send the cat spiraling into the air and falling to its death. He was wrong.
Ash attacked back, using her full strenght to size up. She hissed and growled at the beast, showing her spiky teeth and causing the dog to quiver.  She then sliced a paw toward his nose and reached for his back, which she bit down on hard. The dog, never once imagining this would happen, nor ever seeing anything like this in his life, bounded away, half in shock and half in fright.    

                              He never came back and messed with those tricky felines again.
Ash, blowing the dust off her paws, trotted towards Sherlock to make sure everything was okay.

"Sherlock, are you alright? That dog nearly had you. It's a good thing I came in just in time."
  "Alright?! Are you kidding?? I am fine!! But you--you were--"
 "Incredible" Travler mewed from the far corner of the room, half dazed and half amazed.
"Well I don't know about THAT, but it sure is good I have these super powers!"

"You were purrrrrrrrr-fect, Ash. We're so mewfull you saved us."
"It was nothing",she replied, "Just a chip off the old catnip".

Part One: Sherlock, Ash and Travler's discovery

 The sun was weaving through the sky, casting long rays on the earth.
Sherlock, Ash and Travler were in the house having their before dinner snack.
Sherlock ate his meow mix with quick,swift gulps while Ash took dainty bits and Trav nibbled at his food.
Suddenly, Sherlock jumped onto his cat tree sending a swift breeze through the air and sounding an abrupt meow.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" asked Ash, fear edging her meow.

"Over there" Sherlock motioned with his tail, eyes wide in surprise.

    They all turned their heads and stared, eyes wide in fright. 

                The dog, cat's all time enemy since the beginning of time, was standing out side their door, his pudgent smell reeking through the floor boards.   

"What will we do?" Travler asked in the utmost fear.

                                    Not one cat replied. They just stared, eyes glued to the door.


Read next week to find out what the cats did and who the cat was who risked his life to save his pals in a narrow escape to freedom and saftey.

Just a few of the Two

Who likes the colors?

I think the sun really did a fine job here, I'm liking the colors.

Furry little Friends: Travler

 Here are a few favorites of Trav. Browse and enjoy!

At the window

On my cat tree

I see you!

Hey....

Hello there

Gotcha!

                                                                                How did you like it? Yes, my cat is quite the refined type, but hey--aren't all cats? Yes, the photographs are all one one side, but just as Furry little Friends: Ash, I could not seem to figure out how to move them to the right. Tell me what ya think!

Guess Who?

Sleepy head

 Just a few pictures of Sherlock....

Blurry little Furry

This picture came out a little blurry,as Sherlock was mid head turning when I snapped the shot. Anyway, I think it's pretty good. Blurry,but good.

With that being said, I will skip to the topic: Have you noticed that in (most) of Sherlock's photos he's always in this thing that appears to be a tunnel? Well it is his cat tree and he lOVES it! Anyhow, I will give you some pics and the whole story on Sherlock's cat tree and why he is so found of it. For now, I will leave you at a cliff hanger!

Sittin' Kitten

This is one picture where Trav actually sat still. Most of the time he is jumping around and getting into things , you might say going a little c-r-a-z-y ( thanks to catnip ).

This is my pride and joy, Sherlock (AKA Sherly-poo) . He is a year and a half and the most lovable kitty EVER!!! I must say, although, that he is a rather timid fellow, taking pride in his ever so feline-like gentleness.
Caption: Sherlock looking around the corner