And Kitty Makes Four
"Ohhh, they're so cute!" Grace gushed as she stared into a pen of six mewling kittens.
An animal shelter employee, a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair, smiled down at the seven-year-old girl. "You like those little guys, don't you?"
"Uh-huh!" Grace got up from where she'd been kneeling on the floor and gave Eva and Neil a pleading look. "Can I have them all, please? Please?"
"Now, Grace, we talked about this," Eva reminded her. "We agreed that one kitten is enough, remember? And those kittens look too young for us to adopt anyway."
If Eva had to guess, the kittens—one Siamese, one black, one ginger, and three gray with black stripes—were about eight weeks old. Although eight weeks was the minimum age where kittens were deemed old enough to be given to a new home, with Eva and Neil's unpredictable work hours and Grace having to go back to school in little under a month, Eva would rather they got an older kitten.
"But Mama—"
"Is right, hun," Neil interrupted. "I know tiny kittens are adorable, but they're not old enough to be home alone all day."
Grace's face fell.
"If you're looking for an older kitten," the woman told Eva and Neil, "we've got some right over here."
As they followed the woman to the back of the room, passing more pens containing kittens of various breeds and colors, Eva heard Neil loudly whisper to Grace, "If you like the older kittens, I'll try to convince Mama to get you two of them."
"I heard that," Eva said, raising an unamused eyebrow at Neil. Going from agreeing with her to being soft on their daughter in less than a minute had to be some kind of record.
"Here we are," the woman announced before Neil could reply. She gestured towards a pen with two white Persian kittens who were play fighting with each other. "These two are twelve weeks old."
Grace perked up and once again knelt by the pen. "Aw, they're cute, too!" she exclaimed happily. "And really fluffy!" She got to her feet and turned her attention to Eva, clasping her hands in front of her. "Mama, can we—"
"No, Grace," Eva cut in firmly, "we're not getting two kittens."
"Oh, come on, Eva," Neil protested. "Two kittens could keep each other company when we're not at home."
"And two kittens mean more fun!" Grace chimed in.
"Two kittens mean two food bowls, two water dishes, and four litter boxes to look after," Eva pointed out. "Not to mention doubling the chances of our furniture getting torn to shreds."
Neil tsked. "How very pessimistic of you, dumpling."
"You won't be saying that after two kittens destroy our couch, climb our curtains, and knock over our TV."
Grace opened her mouth to say something, but was distracted by meowing coming from another pen. Against the left-hand wall, an American Shorthair kitten that looked a few weeks older than the two Persians was batting at the pen's glass door. The kitten's short, smooth fur was white with black and red patches on its head, back, and tail, and it was staring at Grace with almond hazel eyes.
Grace stepped closer to get a better look at the kitten. "Hello there, kitty," she said. "Were you talking to me?"
The kitten meowed again, and Grace giggled.
"Looks like you won't have to worry about two fluffy little terrors after all," Neil quietly deadpanned to Eva.
"You say that like I was about to cave in," was her whispered retort.
"Would you like to pet her?" the woman was asking, and Grace nodded eagerly. The woman opened the pen and gently picked the kitten up in her arms. Grace petted the kitten's head and stroked her chin, and the kitten purred at the affection.
"Her fur's so soft," Grace murmured. With one last pet on the head, Grace turned to Eva and Neil with a bright smile. "I'm naming her Maizie!"
"Wow, you named her already?" Neil asked rhetorically, grinning. "She must be a keeper, eh, Eva?"
"Must be," Eva agreed.
Later, as they walked out of the shelter with Maizie in Grace's arms, their daughter chattering excitedly to her new pet, Eva silently thanked her lucky stars that Grace hadn't been enamored enough over the younger kittens to give them names.