There, sitting in a nest of toilet paper, was Maud, our twelve-week-old problem child. She chirruped in greeting, grabbed a mouthful of paper, and took off toward the bathroom, trailing a long line of it behind her. I stepped beside Josh, watching her go. “We’ll get a little girl kitten, he said. She’ll be super cute, he said. Fred needs someone to play with so he doesn’t get lonely.”
