“Oh, my kittens. If I could, I would pick you up by the scruffs of your necks and carry you forever. But you’ve grown. Your claws are sharp, your eyesight is keen, and cats must make their own way in the world. I must say farewell for now, though I’m sure we’ll meet again.” I wanted to protest that I hadn’t grown up and I didn’t even have claws. (Carter disagrees, but what does he know?)
