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Luckily, Charles pulled into the drive just then, causing Paisley to temporarily forget her panic and instead start barking in excitement.

The kittens mewled their best attempts at a bark, and I broke apart in laughter. It seemed Paisley wasn’t the only one confused about what species our litter belonged to.

“I’m back,” Charles sang as he passed through the foyer and joined us in the living room. “Did you miss me?”

I smiled in relief.“You have no idea how much.” He really didn’t. Even though less than an hour had passed, a record-breaking amount of activity had occurred.

Charles set the bag from the pet store on the table and pulled out a pair of stainless-steel bowls. Next he took out the canned cat food and pulled the tabs to open them.

The kittens definitely recognized the smell as being something to eat.

“Hungry!” they cried in their cutesy baby voices, stumbling toward the edge of the couch.

Paisley managed to catch one by the scruff of its neck before it toppled over the edge.“Careful, my darling dear.”

Charles, Nan, and I placed the kittens on the floor with the two bowls of food and watched them gobble it down.

“Should I open up another can?” he asked me with a questioning glance.

“Better not. They still have tiny bellies, and I don’t want them to get sick. Especially since we’re going to the vet after this.”

“I’m not going!” Octo-Cat called from the other room.

“You’re not invited!” I shouted back. Now that Paisley had graciously taken responsibility for the litter, we didn’t need drill instructor Octavius’s help any longer.

Let’s just hope the poor doggie foster mom didn’t become too attached. I’d hate to see her heart break when we sent them off to their forever homes.

Chapter Eleven

And off to the veterinarian’s clinic we went.

Charles called ahead to let them know we were stopping by without an appointment, but that the adorable kittens would surely make it worth their while.

The three of us must have made quite the spectacle as we marched into the animal hospital, holding the mewing crate high as their Chihuahua mother ran at our sides yapping a constant stream of encouragement.

“Don’t worry, my cat puppies. You’re not sick. The doctor’s just going to make sure you stay that way. It’s all part of growing up. You will be brave for Mommy, won’t you?”

“Mommy! Yes, Mommy!” Well, it seemed not all of Octo-Cat’s training had been forgotten.

“Let me guess,” the receptionist said as she rose to her feet and peeked into the cat carrier. “You must be the Russo party.”

“That’s us,” I confirmed with a nod, even though I was the only one whose last name was actually Russo.

“Come with me. Dr. Lowe is just finishing up with another patient. She should be with you shortly.” She smiled and motioned for us to follow, swinging her hips the whole way.

We obediently followed her into exam room two.

“Good luck!” the receptionist called, closing us inside.

Charles remained standing so that Nan and I could take the two chairs.“Did you see that her scrubs had pawprints and bones on them? That is so neat. I wish lawyers got more interesting clothing options, but everyone in the courtroom would look at me like I was crazy if I came wearing a suit with a gavel or the scales of justice patterned all over it.”

“You should do it anyway,” Nan offered with a wink. After all, she was the queen of outrageous costumes. She’d wear just about anything, just so long as it was the right shade of pink.

I laughed uncomfortably. At least Christmas had already passed, or else Nan might be gifting my boyfriend with a new hot pink lawyer suit.Cringe.

As promised, a few minutes later, Dr. Britt Lowe entered the room, clipboard in hand. She was the youngest of all the veterinarians in the office and the one who most regularly saw our pets. She widened her eyes and puckered her lips as she took us in.“I hear you have kittens.”

“Not intentionally,” I was quick to clarify, though I’m not sure why. “They were left on our doorstep this morning.”

She glanced down at her chart.“I have a note here that they were covered in blood?”

“Well, not covered,” Charles explained. “But they had it on their paws and a little in their fur as well. We had to give them a bath.”

“That must have been fun,” the vet said with a chuckle. “Let’s take them out and have a look. One at a time, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, children,” Paisley barked. “Be good for the doctor. No biting or growling.”

Dr. Lowe bent down and gave the dog a pat.“Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there, Paisley.”

“She’s become quite attached to the litter,” I said with a frown. Every single minute that passed before rehoming the kittens would only add to Paisley’s eventual heartbreak.

“I bet your cat is none too pleased,” Dr. Lowe said with another chuckle.

“You would definitely win that bet.” Yes, even among other cat lovers, my cat had a reputation for being a diva. He couldn’t help that he was raised in excessive luxury for his first several years, but still.

Charles handed our vet the first of the kittens.