Much to Dayla’s disappointment, there really aren’t any kittens currently in the cat room.
“You said you had some kittens.” Dayla hears the pout in her own voice and wishes it wasn’t there. But the cat room’s only occupant is an obese calico snoozing in a fleece pet bed strategically placed in a beam of sunlight near the window.
Keri reminds her, “I said not quite yet. They’re coming, don’t worry.”
“What do you mean?”
Crossing the room, Keri strokes one hand down the calico’s side. A sudden strong purring sound fills the air. “Missy here’s knitting kittens as we speak.”
For a moment, Dayla can’t figure out what Keri means. Then she gets it. “You mean she’s pregnant.” When Keri nods, Dayla has to laugh. “And here I thought she was just fat.”
Keri rubs Missy behind the ears. In a baby
