Hannah held on. She held on to her coffee cup and she also held on to her temper. She really shouldn’t be angry with a man who’d brought her a present…unless, of course, the present was also something insulting, like a bathroom scale, or a diet book.

In a very few moments, fewer than it would have taken Hannah to run through the coffee shop, get something out of a parked car, and retrace her steps to the kitchen, Mike was back.

“Here,” he said, thrusting a huge, gift-wrapped package into her arms. “It’s for you and Moishe.”

All traces of Hannah’s earlier pique dissipated. It didn’t matter what the present was. It was sufficient that Mike had thought enough of her pet to get something for Moishe. She supposed that was why Andrea got all dewy-eyed when a guest brought a “little something” for Tracey or Bethie. It was a case of Love me, love my kid. Or in Hannah’s situation, it was Love me, love my cat.

“Thank you, Mike,” Hannah said in a voice that came close to emulating Moishe’s best purr.

“You’re welcome. Open it now and see if you think the Big Guy’ll like it. I got it out at the pet store in the mall.”

The box was wrapped in bright yellow paper with brown animal footprints all over it. It reminded Hannah of the time Moishe had knocked over a bottle of chocolate syrup and decorated her kitchen floor with a similar design. She squelched her urge to pluck the elaborate bow from the top and rip off the paper. She’d found out the hard way that people got upset when they paid extra for gift wrapping and she destroyed it in nanoseconds before their very eyes.

“This is really nice paper,” Hannah said, paying homage to Mike’s thoughtfulness, “and the bow’s nice, too.”

“Forget the wrapping and open it. I’m due back at the station in fifteen minutes.”

Hannah smiled. Mike was a man after her own heart. She pulled off the bow, shredded the paper with one well-placed fingernail, and uncovered the box. It said Kitty Valet in big red letters, and Hannah was still puzzled after she opened the box and drew out two plastic bowls and two see-through cylinders.

“They’re self-feeders,” Mike explained. “One’s for food and the other’s for water. When Moishe eats food from the bowl, it creates a space and the food in the cylinder drops down to fill it. As long as you fill up the cylinders in the morning, Moishe can’t run out of food or water.” Mike stopped and frowned slightly. “At least I don’t think he can.”