Frozen Kittens They’re not staying in the house! My mother, fearful of ammonia urine-sprayed carpets of spinster aunts, so three Twiggy-eyed kittens, go out into the pink garage. My carpenter dad builds a wooden hut with a hole-door, opening onto a papered half-cardboard box. I feed them milk, table scraps, mashed spaghetti, canned fishy catfood. […]
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