I begin to see cats staring at us, collars around their throats, with claws or teeth sticking out. I duck my head a little, continuing on walking with my new friends.

Some cats follow behind Nelson, who's at the back. A huge brown tom glares at me before padding beside Twister. Sage keeps close to me, our fur almost brushing.

I already feel like a prisoner. But I don't want to be a prisoner! I'm suppose to be free . . . so what if this isn't what I'm suppose to do?