A low growling sound has me whipping my head toward the couch. I don’t see anything, but then I hear it again. It sounds like it belongs in some kind of horror movie. “Do you have a dog?” I ask, still eyeing the sofa. Parker rolls her eyes. “That’s just Mr. Eds. He’s a cat.” “You like cats now? And what kind of name is Mr. Eds? Plural?” “It’s short for Evil Demon Spawn,” she says, like this is a totally normal name for a cat.
