The Great Puppy Escape
    
“Now stay here and be good,” Jerry says, locking the pet shop door.

 I sigh to myself. It’s the same routine, night after night. Jerry leaves, then we stay in our “enclosures,” as he calls them, until morning. Enclosures, ha. A cage by any other name is still a cage. All of us—the pets at Jerry’s Pet Emporium—have to stay in these cages all the time. All the time! We’re barely ever adopted, and nobody ever leaves.
    
But tonight is different. Tonight I’ve been planning an escape.

Hearing the familiar sound of Jerry’s car receding down the street outside, I call, “Acorn! I’m ready!” Acorn, a tamed squirrel, is the only pet who can escape his “enclosure” by himself. He scampers over, and quick as a wink, my door is unlocked.
    
“Thanks, Acorn!” I call, dashing over to the window like a little golden wildfire. “Stay here and be good?” Well, that’s sure not going to be happening tonight!
    
The only thing between me and the amazing, mysterious outside world was a flimsy wire screen, which my claws soon made short work of. Then, lo and behold, there is a gash in the wire big enough for a golden retriever puppy to crawl through.
    
Which I instantly do. I feel a rush of adrenaline. I’m free! It’s the best feeling in the world, an unable-to-be-described joy that fills my body.
    
Suddenly, one of the cars stops, and I notice that I’m illuminated by a streetlight. Oh no! I think, trying to hide behind it.
    
A little boy steps out of the car, followed by his mother. They walk over to me, and the little boy picks me up and starts to stroke my soft ears.
    
“Mommy, please can I keep him?” asks the little boy. “A puppy isn’t safe on the streets of Manhattan!”
    
“Sure, Toby!”
    
“And can I call him Bagels?”
    
“Of course.”
    
Toby carries me back to the warm car, and I start to lick his face. He laughs. If this is any indication, I’ll like my new life a lot.