George had been putting on air of resigned acceptance for several weeks, and to the casual observer, probably appeared to be just another pampered cat content with being bandied about town in his little cat carrier. But simmering tension had been building inside of George for weeks, and on this day, George's anger had finally reaching its boiling point.
"Enough is enough, this ain't no place for a cat like me," George whispered to himself through clenched teeth. "I am getting the hell out of this shoebox."
As the time drew near for George to make his escape, he began silently reviewing and rehearsing his plan, taking into account all the things that could go wrong. He'd been gnawing away at the the latch on the door of his portable feline prison for several months, taking care to conceal the signs of his painstaking work from his owner. And now, George was just one good bite from freedom.
After so many months of captivity, the prospect of escaping was delicious to George. Oh, the thought of roaming free through a fish market and loitering around the butchering table!
Right after I took this photo, George made his move, escaped from the carrier, leapt onto the sidewalk, quickly glanced left and right, and then, for a split second, stopped to glare at his owner in the haughty way that only cats can pull off. George then quickly disappeared down a narrow alley, smiling to himself over a plan that had been executed to perfection.
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