The technician, her own large, brown eyes slightly anxious, hovered near the fiberboard box where a mother cat lay with her five kittens in a nest of shredded fabric. Tiny, high-pitched mews came from the squirming kits. The tech reached a hesitant hand toward the mother cat, a striped gray tabby, who sniffed at the hand then allowed it to pet her. “Which one is he?” asked a blond, tailored-looking man in a charcoal gray business-style clingsuit. “The biggest one,” said the tech. “She had a little trouble with him.” They both peered into the box at a large kitten, colored somewhat like the mother cat but with a white bib and white tufts inside his bat-like ears. His fine, silky baby fur was long where the mother’s was short. He lay curled in sleep while the other kittens writhed and mewed around him. “When will we be able to tell?” the man asked. “Soon.
