“I appreciate you helping me.” Arthur gestured at the pile of kittens in a big cardboard box.
“Well, I’m not due at Colin’s for another hour. Jordan’s coming over this afternoon for our first obedience lesson.” I eyed the wriggling and writhing bodies. “What are we doing?”
“Deworming.” He handed me a kitten.
I squinted at it.
It tried to scratch me with its tiny claws.
“Damn, those things are sharp.”
Arthur laughed. “Hold her steady, and—” He depressed the plunger thing, and a shot of liquid slipped into the kitten’s mouth.
She swallowed, then yowled in protest.
“How does it taste?”
Arthur c****d his head.
“Well, I mean, if it tastes good, then she’s just being fussy. If it tastes like crap—like most of the medicine I remember taking as a child—then I can understand the indignati
