Something soft butted against my hand. I looked down, and there was Spoons, purring as she set her paws to my thigh and started kneading. “Oh,” I said, stupidly. “Oh.” I began to cry; softly at first, and then in deep, wrenching sobs that doubled me over, clutching my own stomach. All the fear and anxiety I’d stored up over our journey, the tension from dinner; everything came pouring out of me in a great, wrenching rush, until I could scarcely breathe for tears.
