I go over to play with the little kittens.
The marmalade-colored one is the strongest of the litter, and he's learned to climb out of the box.
He chases my fingers.
Kate finishes feeding the big cats, and she strides over and scoops him back into the box.
"You stay in there. You'll get stepped on."
She drops Susan back in with her babies to take care of them.
The doorbell rings, and Kate yanks open the door, practically bowling over an ancient little messenger leaning sleepily against the side of the door.
"Take it easy, lady, take it easy. Just sign here," he says.
She signs, hands him the pencil, and slams the door.
The orange kitten has got out again, and Kate does come close to stepping on him as she walks across the room tearing open the telegram.