Furbaby

Mrs. Jackson still kept doggie biscuits in her pockets, even though her furbaby had died two months ago.

As I took the satiny-furred cat into my arms, his purring ratcheted up a couple of notches. Brian stood looking at the two of us, grinning, then said of the malnourished creature, “I guess we have a furbaby!”

He looked down at the puppy fast asleep in his arms. Maybe this furbaby would slow down the ticking of her biological clock, too.