It was March and it was cold. It had been snowing non stop. Winter seemed to have made itself comfortable in the island and showed no intention of ever go back to Siberia or wherever it was winter lived.
Sami didn't mind winter that much, it was actually his favourite season. He prided in having a soft, warm and shiny stripy coat. He liked playing and gambolling in the snow. He liked winter food, he thought a good stew had no comparison with a boring salad.
One particularly cold evening he went to visit the foxes of the lane. He was punctual as always and appeared with a bunch of daffodils as he was very fond of his neighbours, even though they were not popular among the other neighbours as they liked making a great deal of noise late at night. Sami didn't mind the noise very much. He would actually make a great deal of noise too with his mates on fighting nights, jazz nights and domino nights.
The foxes were also very fond of Sami and treated him that evening with spaghetti bolognese. They knew that Sami loved threads beyond measure and they had arranged the spaghetti hanging from the blackberry bush.
-Are you not going to play with your food? -They asked upon noticing sami's puzzlement.
- Am I allowed? - said he, shaking with excitement, and whilst he was at it they produced a mandoline and sang an old song about a sunny place where spaghetti bolognese burst from fountains and hanged from trees. Sami thought that a place like that must be the most amazing place in the whole wide world and that a place like that must be populated with loads of happy cats jumping all day, playing and eating spaghetti. He thought that he preferred a hot climate after all and that he had seen enough snow. Enough was enough.
That night he thought about that wonderful place and had dreams about that wonderful place. And the next day he decided had to go to that wonderful place.