Journey to Freedom

My tummy rumbled reminding me that it had been a few days since I had eaten, hunger clawing at me encouraging me to push forward and keep moving. Stopping at a growl behind me, I turned to see my dog Charlie droop his head as he took unsteady steps.
“Not long now boy,” I said kneeling down to give him a scratch under his chin. Enjoying this affectionate gesture he pushed his chin into my hand closing his eyes.
I felt bad. He also hadn’t eaten in a few days and it was torturing me. He was a kind, loyal friend and I felt like I was failing him.
As if sensing my worry, Charlie nudged me with his nose and stood up taking the lead on our path toward the nearby farming town.
Food. Yes, there would be food there, and that was our goal.

We had fled the boys home after another ‘riot’ of sorts broke out. This time, as the east wing boys lit their mattresses on fire, I snuck out of the front gates bypassing the fire brigade. My Pal Charlie was immediately by my side, our first greeting that didn’t have the barrier of a wire fence between us. It was just the beginning of our journey to freedom.

Charlie started running, so I pushed forward running to keep up after the caramel fluffy creature that had claimed my heart. Just over the hill sat a small brick cottage covered in the morning dew, its chimney expelling smoke.
Charlie bolted towards the cottage stopping short of a small fenced off yard. When I was finally able to catch up to Charlie’s profusely wagging tail, I looked over the small fence, my eyes lighting up with joy!
It was a strawberry patch!