Foiled

The first escape attempt was aborted due to loud canine vocalizations two yards over and the silly humans running after me calling my name. Though, I might point out, they did not precede Biscuit with the ever-necessary and expected “Mr.”

I was too disgruntled to find much pleasure in continuing my excursion at that point and swiftly trotted back into the shelter of my familiar abode. Plus, it was rather chilly out and I didn’t think my pink perfectly pedicured footpads would recover from frostbite. I shall quickly get to planning my next outing.

Mental note for next time: pack some snacks. And perhaps wait for summer.

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