One of Those Days


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Felix and Mittens were minding their own business, checking out the bins, and generally making the most of their nine lives.

As they rounded the corner onto Bond Street they came face to face with Whiskers, a nine-year-old alley dweller with a mangled left ear, blind right eye, and a temperament that puts the “temper” into the word.

“Sorry, Mr. Whiskers,” the two tabbies apologised and began to slowly back away.  It was too late however.  The trespass into the territory of “Mr. W” had been made.  There was only one thing to do: run!

And run they did.  Felix shot out as fast as he could towards home and the safety of the cat flap, but Mittens got cut off by some blonde human in a SUV and had to make a sudden detour to the left.  He was running the fastest he had in his entire two years of life, but “Mr. W” was on his tail.

Then, there in front of him was a fence.  It higher that any he had cleared before, but it was his last chance of escape.  He coiled and made a springing leap.  He barely got his front paws onto the top rail, but he had done it.  He landed and immediately turned to check if Whiskers had followed.

“He’s gone,” Mittens said to himself.  “What a relief!”

He then turned around to an unbelievable sight.  “It’s just one of those days,” he sighed,  as he faced the entire Barkhaus Gang.


Photo Challenge #260

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