Once upon a time, there lived a cat named Selma who lived on a farm with her owner Maggie. Maggie was a twelve-year-old girl and was Selma’s best friend in the whole world.
Every day, Maggie would come home from school, go to Selma’s little kitty bed, pick her up and take her outside to the front porch. Then Maggie would place Selma on her small lap and stroke her back for hours in an old rocking chair until supper was ready.
One day, Selma was waiting for Maggie to come home from school when the door opened and Maggie came running inside the house, right past Selma’s bed.
“I’m going to Liz’s house to spend the night, Mom,” she shouted at her mother. Then Maggie ran upstairs to gather her things.
“What’s Liz’s house?” Selma thought to herself.
Suddenly, Maggie came running downstairs with her overnight bag and started walking toward the front door.
“Where is she going?” Selma thought as she got out of her cuddly cat bed and followed her owner to the door.
“Meow,” cried Selma as she stood in front of Maggie’s feet.
“No, Selma,” said Maggie as she patted the top of Selma’s head. “You can’t come with me. I am staying at a friend’s house tonight.”
Selma moved to the side of the door as Maggie opened it and walked out with Selma following closely behind. Selma sat on the front porch as Maggie got into a parked car that had been waiting for her in the farm’s driveway.
“Meow,” Selma cried but her small owner didn’t notice. She was already talking to her friends inside the car that was now moving slowly down the farm’s driveway.
“I must catch her,” Selma thought and quickly began running at full speed down the driveway toward the road.
After a few moments of running, Selma reached the end of the farm’s long driveway and noticed that the car was out of sight. When Selma stopped for a moment to catch her breath, realized she was far from home.
“I have never been this far away from home before,” Selma thought to herself. “Where am I?” Selma began to look around in confusion. “Oh, no!” she thought. “What am I going to do?”
Suddenly, she heard a strange noise.
“Squeak….!” came a noise from under Selma’s furry paw.
“What was that?” shrieked Selma in confusion.
“Squeak, eek, eeek….” came the noise again.
Selma lifted her paw to reveal a small brown mouse cowering under her furry little cat pads.
“Please, don’t eat me!” the mouse cried out in fear.
“Eat you?” Selma asked the mouse. “Why would I want to eat you, you’re not cat food!”
“Cat food?” said the mouse. “Oh, you must be an indoor cat!”
“Why, yes!” Selma informed the mouse proudly. “I am an indoor cat, but I do visit the porch sometimes with my owner, Maggie.”
“Oh! Well, what are you doing out here then?” asked the mouse.
“My owner, Maggie, got into a car and it drove away. So I tried to follow but now I’m lost. I have never been off the porch before.”
“I can help you find your way back!” said the little mouse.
“You can?” exclaimed Selma happily.
“Sure, if you promise not to eat me!” said the mouse.
“I promise,” Selma told the mouse as they started making their way back to the farm house. “My name is Selma.”
“Mine’s Marty,” the little mouse introduced himself as they walked up the driveway.
Soon after, Selma and Marty had made their way to the farm house and were on the front porch talking before Selma had to go in for the night, when Selma had a terrific idea.
“I think you should liv