BLACK AND DIXIE
The box on the doorstep bore the logo Black and Decker. When she picked it up, it opened revealing two kittens.
"Poor babies, you must be chilled." She lifted one kitten out of the box. "Obviously you're Black," she said. The kitten was a little boy. The other was a tortoise shell. "So you must be Decker, but that's no name for a little girl. I'll think of something better." Loud mews told her, they were scared and hungry. "I hope you guys are weaned," she told them. She opened a jar of strained chicken and poured it onto a plate. Black and his sister lifted their heads at once at the scent of food and began eating.
Now she had to think of something to do with them. Howard had said that two cats were enough. He was not going to welcome two more that needed immediate veterinary attention. "Nice timing, you two." In her mind, she was toting up the cost of spaying, neutering and shots.
Howard would tell her to take them to the Pound; he would be right, of course! Four cats and a baby would be too much and she knew it, but they were so adorable! She was hooked. Giving them up was not going to be easy!
The baby started to cry. From the baby's room she heard Howard come in the back door.
Oh, no! He's going to see the kittens and have a fit!
She came downstairs. Howard was in the kitchen. He had the black kitten in his hands. "Where did you get these?" he asked. He picked up the other kitten. She attached herself to his sweater. A goofy look came over his face. He said, "We have to go get some kitten chow."
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