We have always enjoyed how Four Furry Cats' Dad tells his stories from Dolce's Story Chair, so we've been growing some cat grass and warmed some cat milk. We even prepared some homemade cat treats from the cat treat cookbook Mom got for Christmas (don't blame me if they're not Whisker Lickins, it was Josie's idea). So please, everyone, curl up over the next six days and enjoy "Maggie and the Meezer Trinity."
Chapter one in which Maggie's adventure begins
It was an unseasonably cool night for Columbia in mid-spring. Maggie scampered up the stairs to the master bed, leapt up and curled in a warm nest of blanket and comforter. Her lone left eye blinked slowly, lingering closed a little before reopening, then slowly blinking again until finally her eye closed and she drifted to sleep.
A loud clamor in the street brought Maggie out of her slumber. She licked her paw then wiped it across her left eye to rub the sleep out. With a stretch, she rose from a straw mattress in a small, dimly lit cottage. Outside she could hear the cries of the village cats, outrage and concern that Princess Josie had been captured by the soldiers of the Meezer Trinity.
Maggie quickly rose and glanced out the window and down the street. Distraught cats filled the lane, consoling each other. Maggie started to exit into that street when her neighbor burst in the back door.
"Maggie, the soldiers are flooding the village. You need to go right away," he said is an urgent growl.
"Go?" Maggie asked, confused why the soldiers of the Trinity would be interested in her.
"There's no time to explain. Just follow this map," he said, slipping a scroll into her bag. "Now go, and stay in the brush."
Maggie nodded, trusting but confused, then grabbed her bag in her mouth and darted out the back. The loud thuds of the soldier cats knocking door to door faded as Maggie disappeared into the woods, vanishing into the dusk.
As the night turned to dawn, Maggie found herself farther away from her village than she could ever recall. Her entire life had been spent in her small village. Maggie was independent, living by herself, but under the watchful eyes of her neighbors.
She found a bush with an airy hollow beneath, removed her map and studied her route. She was approaching a range of foothills, and her path led her to a glade not far from her village. After a brief snack she took a quick glance at the map, "Just an afternoon away," she thought to herself, "then answers."