The Great Escape

Boris[1]
Seeing the front gate left unattended, Boris, makes a daring breakout.

26 thoughts on “The Great Escape”

  1. Reminds me of a cat I use to have in Calif. His name was Boneless. Reason? I could pick him up and no matter how I held him he would seem to melt over my hand like the clocks in a Dali painting. 🙂

      1. Oh, it’s like a reality show where they can’t interact? Cool. Run young Boris, run.

        But do come back for dinner. And to use the litterbox.

      2. Hah, well they’re smarter than some of mine have been. Before making the current generation indoors only, a few of mine would run back inside to use the potty. Our dearly departed Riker would have a fit waiting for us to get home from work if we locked the cat door. Which we did frequently when living in the sticks because he kept bringing home live, completely uninjured catches and turning them loose in the house. Actually, to the best of our knowledge he never injured or killed a single one. Our running theory was that he merely invited them home to visit. Or scare the crap out of me. Possibly both!

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