There! I saw it again. Something had dashed behind a stack of wooden lobster pots.
An uneasy growl rumbled deep in my throat.
So much for playing it cool.
“Come out of there,” I said. “Let’s deal with this muzzle to muzzle.”
A lobster pot shook.
I growled again, and set my paws in the ground, my shoulders hunched as I got ready to spring. “Show yourself!”
A lobster pot teetered at the top of the pile, and then fell off with a crash and a yowl.
I jumped, my heart pounding. “Who’s there?”
“I think I twisted my tail,” a little voice said. “Ow! Definitely, twisted.”
“Don’t make me come back there and find you. You won’t like it!”
The pile of lobster pots shook, and then a small round cat climbed up onto the top one: Princess Grace.
From “Saving Scrumpy“
