🎈 The Hot-Air Balloon Picnic

Grandpa Whiskers had a hot-air balloon. It was striped like a candy, red and yellow and blue, and the basket was just big enough for him and his granddaughter, Poppy.

"Ready for a picnic in the sky?" he asked. Poppy nodded so hard her ears flapped. They packed a basket with fish sandwiches and a flask of warm milk, and up they went.

Whoosh! The balloon rose gently above the trees. The houses looked like toy blocks. The cows looked like tiny spots. A flock of geese flew past and honked hello.

"Look, Poppy," said Grandpa, pointing. "There's our house, and there's the school, and there's the river." Poppy pressed her nose against the edge of the basket. "Everything looks so small," she whispered. "And the sky looks so big."

They ate their sandwiches as the balloon floated over a field of sunflowers. Poppy waved at the sunflowers, and the sunflowers seemed to nod back in the breeze.

Then a little cloud drifted by, so close that Poppy could almost touch it. She reached out her paw and felt something cool and misty. "I touched a cloud!" she squealed.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky pink and gold, Grandpa gently brought the balloon down in a soft green meadow. The basket landed with a little bump.

Poppy gave Grandpa a big hug and a happy meow. "Can we do it again tomorrow?" she asked. Grandpa chuckled. "Maybe next week," he said. "Clouds need a rest too."