“Look at it this way. It’s good we found out sooner rather than later,” Mason’s mom said as Mason’s dad backed the car out of the driveway. “Before we got too attached.” “I’m already too attached!” Brody moaned. Inside her cardboard cat carrier, placed between the two boys on the backseat, Cat meowed piteously. Mason didn’t know if she was sad to be saying farewell to Brody, or sad because she didn’t like being in the cat carrier. Or both. He didn’t think it was because she was all that sorry to be saying goodbye to him, Mason. Mason didn’t join in the conversation as Brody talked about Cat’s softness, her friendliness, her purr. In half an hour, Cat would be just a memory. Her litter box, corduroy cat bed, fine-toothed plastic brush, and cat tease toy were now crammed on the shelf in the garage on top of Hamster’s cage, next to Goldfish’s bowl. There had been room for them there on the shelf, after all. And the cat bowls that Mason and Brody were making at art camp?
