Welcome to Part One of A Well Planned Escape, the story of a sugar glider who bravely attempts to flee his not-so-great family and finds himself in a situation that isn’t quite what he expected.
Featuring brand new, original designs, this story is sure to excite your little ones about diving into the world of sugar gliders.
They’ll learn what cages are best suited to a glider, what food gliders prefer, and most importantly, how to properly care for and treat your sugar glider!
In Part Two, we’ll be including a reading comprehension exercise to accompany the story, so make sure you read both parts of the story.
Now let’s get started on A Well Planned Escape!
Whew, that was a bad one. My family thinks I bark in the night because I’m scared. And they are right. They just don’t understand HOW scared I get. I don’t really know why, after all this time, I still have nightmares (they should be called ‘daymares’ because they happen during the day, which is when I usually sleep, but whatever). My new family is great. I just can’t forget the reason why they are my NEW family.
Since you’re going to me my new cage-mate, maybe if I tell you the story, it will help you understand.
My Family had to move. I heard words like ‘Utah’ and ‘Texas’ and didn’t know what they meant, so I didn’t worry much. However, there were a couple of words that I remember my mom telling me over and over: ‘California’ was one of them. The whole time I was in the pouch on her stomach, she whispered it. When I was old enough to leave the pouch and sit on her back for long periods of time, she would warn me to never allow my family to take me there. “Little one, you aren’t allowed there. In California, if they find you, that will be the end of you. ” The day I left her to go live with My Family, she reminded me again of how dangerous it would be for me. So when, a few months later, My Family started talking about California, I got scared, really scared. ‘The End of You’ didn’t sound like a very nice city. I chewed up the map and peed on the suitcases. I chattered and snapped at them, and I even tried to hide in the closet. Nothing doing. They just weren’t able to understand my communications. So, that’s when I got desperate. I started paying close attention to the latch on my cage so that I could escape. If they weren’t going to change their plans for me, I wasn’t going with them.
Gliders do their best work at night. After all, we are nocturnal. So, I waited and watched. Since I have hands, I can turn small nobs and open little boxes. How hard could it be to open the latch? I just needed to study The Kid. (Her name was Donna, and the baby called her ‘DooDoo,’ but I just called her ‘The Kid.’) If a 9-year old can do it, so can I. She thought I was being friendly, and I was. Sort of. I positioned myself near the door so I could see exactly how she did it. After watching her a couple of times, I thought I had it.
I waited until My Family was asleep before I tried it on my own. It was harder than I thought it would be. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t as if I was incapable of opening the latch. The Kid had been doing this for months, so she’d had a lot more practice. I called myself all kinds of names, like ‘clumsy marsupial’ and ‘flying rodent’. My mom would be disappointed to hear such language, but like I said, I was getting desperate. My hands were sore, my head ached, and I almost had the latch open when I had a thought. If I got it open, how was I going to close it up again? I didn’t want My Family to know what I was planning. That would spoil everything. Timing was important.
So, in a flash of brilliance, I thought I would be sneaky. I would ‘help’ The Kid close the latch, just to make sure that I could do it. She thought it was sooo cute that I wanted to be locked in my cage that she never considered I was planning an escape. Those weeks before the great escape–aka The Move–I actually began to like her. I even thought of her as Big D instead of just The Kid. I let her hold me, and I discovered that I liked being held and scratched. I liked it so much that I marked her. That was a big mistake. She thought that I was just peeing on her, and she kept me locked in my cage after that.
Oh well. I knew that we would soon part ways, so I guess it was best that she didn’t get too attached to me. I wouldn’t want her to pitch a fit or anything when I went missing. That might spoil my plans. I knew my family wasn’t really happy with me. I don’t cuddle, obey commands, and they think I’m a picky eater. But they didn’t get me a buddy, they don’t feed me live food, and they don’t like it when I mark them, so I guess we just aren’t compatible. Anyway, the last thing I needed was to get attached. I mean, for Big D to get too attached to me just before the break out.
The time for the move was just a week away, and I needed to practice opening the latch, climbing in unfamiliar territory (remembering not to leave scat anywhere), and generally get into shape. After the family was in bed, I could even practice gliding from the curtains in the living room. Wow! What a thrill that was. The first time I tried it, I had to hurry back to my cage to relieve myself. I was trying hard not to leave any traces of my forays. However, I forgot about the mouse. If I had remembered it, I wouldn’t have been so worried about peeing on things.
Big D’s brother, Demon, I mean Damon, had a pet mouse. He would let IT out to run around the living room, and IT could make any mess that it wanted without anyone making a big deal about it. Of course, IT also allowed Damon to carry it in his pocket, and IT was no gourmet. I mean, mice will eat anything. Ugh! I guess that’s why they are called rodents and we gliders are NOT. Mice are omnivores, and so am I, but gliders are true foodies. I mean, we appreciate the texture and freshness of food. We really… but I digress.
I am trying to explain just why and how I now have a New Family. I practiced opening and closing the latch. I practiced climbing and gliding. I even practiced finding my own food. I could have made mincemeat out of the mouse, but I settled for insects instead. Because of the animals in the house (gliders, mice, dogs, and fish), there was a lot of kibble too. Perfect for attracting insects. Boy, if you’ve never had fresh roaches, you just don’t know what you are missing. They are crunchy on the outside and soft and gooey on the inside. So much tastier than dried fish! But my favorite insect is the black ant. They require more chewing than roaches, but they have a sort of peppery flavor that really twangs my buds, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, moving day arrived, and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to carry any of my stuff with me. I would miss my fleece hammock, but I was hoping to carry some of the smaller fleece items with me. After all, I was still going to need a place to bed down each day. I was still nervous about that latch. I mean, what if they put a lock on it? Or what if they didn’t cover the cage? If they didn’t cover the cage, someone might have seen that I had escaped, and that would never do. What if they put me in some small carrying box for the move? I hadn’t even considered that.
I was pretty much a nervous wreck by the time the movers picked up my fully covered cage and placed it in the van. Whew! No lock, fully covered, and thankfully no tiny box, but what a wild ride. My hammock bucked and swayed like a ship in a storm. I had to cling to the fleece so I wouldn’t be tossed onto the floor of my cage. It seemed like hours until the lurching stopped and my cage was carried into a building. By then, I was pretty angry, so when Big D peeked into the cage to see how I was doing, I flew at her and gave her a piece of my mind.
I can’t repeat what I said, it’s not fitting for you to hear (and besides, what if my mother sees this?). And do you know what The Kid did? She laughed. She actually laughed at me. How totally humiliating. Any hesitation I felt about leaving her vanished completely. I was ready to do this. I could hardly wait for things to quiet down. I just needed to wait for dinner, and then they would never see me again.
And to my surprise, that’s what happened. I received my last meal of the day, ate it, collected my thoughts (and some fleece), and opened the latch on my cage. My heart was pounding. I didn’t know what awaited me out there, but I knew if I stayed, I was a goner.
So, I went. Quietly, I slipped out of the cage and made my way to the floor. It appeared that I was in a jungle. I could smell the family stuff. You know, mom’s perfume, baby vomit, mouse pee, dad’s sweaty gym bag. Those familiar smells that make a house a home. I was almost overcome with nostalgia, until I smelled The Kids’ sneakers.
That reminded me of her laughter, and that made me angry, so I pressed on. I needed height, so I climbed on top of my cage. I was able to jump, glide, and climb my way to the edge of the jungle, and that’s where I found paradise. At least I thought so at the time.
What I saw was a huge room filled with nooks and crannies and climbable things. I could see myself gliding from one place to another, catching mice for my dinner, nestling down high up in the rafters. This was going to be great!
The next morning, while I watched from high in the rafters, The Kid came to feed me breakfast. Boy was she mad when all she found was an empty cage. She was mad that she had wasted time preparing breakfast. She was mad that she had to get up early for nothing. She was mad because now she had this expensive cage and no animal to put in it. But she wasn’t mad that I was gone. Her dad reminded her how much work I was. Her mom reminded her how messy I was. And they all agreed that I was a bad idea from the start and that maybe a wild animal should be left in the wild. They didn’t even tell the movers that I was missing. They just left.
That day, I learned a lot about people that I would soon have to unlearn. Some people shouldn’t have pets. They don’t know how to take care of them (or they are just lazy about it). They don’t research the needs, diet, friends, housing, etc. And some people are just downright mean.Â
We hope you enjoyed Part One of the story. Stayed tuned for Part Two, plus a reading comprehension activity! Find out what life in the warehouse is like and how the hero of our story finds his new family!
Get Your own sugar glider journal
If you loved learning about sugar gliders or have your own pet sugar glider, check out our sugar glider journals!Â
We have 13 different designs and themes to choose from!
They make great gifts, or as a journal, a diary, a notebook, for tracking dietary needs, for creative writing and more!
