Young and uncertain, Banshee peeks out at a world that has changed overnight. Calculations are running through his head. He can’t recall if it’s seven or eight of his nine lives that are left to him. “And just what is this stuff?”, he asks himself. “Is it safe to put a paw out? My humans haven’t done it yet. Aw, for Tom’s sake, do I have to always be the point man in this family?”
Making tracks and watching his step, Banshee stalks the frozen tundra. “Okay. Okay,” he says to himself. “I think I got the hang of this now. By the time I’m through with this cold bright stuff, I’ll be its master. Oh, Sergeant Preston. If you had only chosen a cat as companion instead of that big, oversized canine, you would not only have had wonderful adventures, you would have had more wild and crazy fun, too.”
“Okay, Sergeant and Mrs. Preston (yeah right, snicker). I’ve been out blazing trails and making the frozen north safe for humans. That means you, too, I suppose. Of course, chipmunks are excluded from my far-flung safety net. This IS the wild you know, and cat doth not live by Meow Mix alone. Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, here! Anybody up yet? You’d think these two had more lives than I do what with lollygaggin’ around all day. Sergeant Preston, my eye. You have to get up PRET-tee early in the morning to catch us adventurers of the north napping. Speaking of which. It’s time for mine. Now let me in, why don’t ya? I’m freezing my tail off out here.
NOTE: I was Banshee’s editor-in-chief and his esteemed Dr. Watson, who has diligently recorded his adventures for posterity. Don’t miss out on his exciting autobiography entitled By A Whisker published posthumously by TheVillageSmith Publications.