Chapter Fourteen
“Miles! You found her!” Myrtle reached out to give Miles a hug, smashing a protesting Pasha in the process. “Here, come inside.” She took the bundle from Miles’s arms, crooning to it.
Miles brushed off some of the cat fur that had gotten on his clothes. “I’d be careful, Myrtle. She’s scared. And she’s fully armed with claws, you know.”
“Poor Pasha,” said Myrtle. She gently set down the bundle on the sofa and watched as Pasha fairly exploded from the covering, restlessly stalking around the room, stopping to sniff the furniture and Myrtle from time to time before finally settling down enough to sit on the floor and start grooming herself.
“However did you find her, Miles?” asked Myrtle, hurrying into the kitchen to pull out a can of tuna from her cabinet.
“I thought it
