“I’m not ready!” Rosie meowed, squirming. “I have to find my little red mouse!”
Mr. Brightwood carried her towards the blue plastic cat carrier sitting on the floor. Rosie struggled harder. She didn’t like the carrier. It smelled unnatural and was cramped and hard, even with a towel set on the floor. Being put into the carrier meant she had to go in the car. She didn’t like the feel of the world moving without her feet being on the ground.
Rosie almost slipped away, but in the end, Mr. Brightwood pushed her rump gently inside and snapped the wire door shut. “But my little red mouse…” she wailed pitifully.
Mr. Brightwood was careful not to swing the cat carrier too much as he placed it in the back seat of their car, and put a safety belt around it. For several blocks, Rosie continued to protest loudly. Then she grew tired of meowing. But she didn’t stop wondering where her little red mouse was, or wishing it was with her.