Isabelle Craten had a reputation of being one seriously nice, albeit odd, lady. That reputation would have taken a serious hit if anyone had stopped by at that particular moment.
“Damn it, Natalie!” she screeched, wading through a sea of cats which split in front of her. “God damn it, girl!”
It was hard for her to believe but the evidence didn’t lie; Natalie Mullen—dependable Natalie—had forgotten to stop by and give the cats their afternoon tuna. There were no two ways to put it, Natalie had not come by. Each of the food bowls was perfectly clean and still smelled of the Nature’s Miracle Isabelle used to clean them. Her cats hadn’t been fed in nearly twelve hours. Her babies were starving.
Isabelle wrenched the lids from the industrial sized cans, pushing her furry babies away from their bowl with a foot. Mewing fi...