This is page 4 of the book I am working on.
The Shirley situation gets no better. In fact, as the day passed by her once slim figure gave way a little more to a slightly tell tale bulk around her middle. I was growing quite concerned.
“Did she miss her period?” my friend Ella asked. We were having coffee during our break between classes in the cafeteria.
“How the hell would I know if she missed her period?”
She shrugged in reply.
“It’s not like she uses supplies or anything, or keeps a little calendar marked with a big red X. She’s a cat.”
“Do cats get their periods?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” I replied.
“Well how can you be so sure she’s pregnant?”
“I’m not sure. That’s the point. I need to find out.”
“You’ll find out when you have a sock drawer full of kittens. That’s the way it is with cats.”
“I don’t want things to go that far. If she’s pregnant, she’s not having kittens. She’s too young to be a mother. She’s still a baby herself. She still plays with her mousy toy. She’s just not ready for this.”
“She’s a cat!” Ella said, exasperated.
“Barely. She’s only nine months old! Not old enough to handle this responsibility. She’ll have to give up all of her hobbies. Grow up too fast.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Hobbies? For Gods sake,” she said with a sigh as she rummaged through her oversized bag. After a few minutes of furious digging around, she managed to produce a business card. “Here. Phone him. He’s an old family friend, mention my name. Maybe he’ll cut you a deal.”
I glance at the card. Dr. G. J Lange, DVM.
“Is he good?” I asked.
Ella replied with a shrug.
“Is he the best?” I asked with the intensity of an CIA interrogator.
She shrugged again.
“Ella! This is serious. I’m not taking Shirley to some back alley butcher shop cat abortionist with a rusty coat hanger. I want this thing done and I want it done right. I owe it to her. It’s my fault she’s gotten herself into this mess,” I said, blinking away the tears that were forming.
“I don’t know if he’s the best. He only ever dewormed my dog once, so it’s hard to know, really. I think he did a good job of it, though. Haven’t seen any worms in the dogs ass, but I don’t really look that closely at it.”
“That’s a pretty good endorsement. Good enough for me, anyways. I’ll think about it,” I said in reply, pocketing the card.