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"Nah not yet. It's too cold to take in new animals. But I've got the chickens and Millie, the guard goose." He said, taking her hand, "You're lucky she didn't come honking at you when you drove up unannounced. She's vicious when she wants to be."

"Alright, but if you get cold once we're out there, it's on you." Cooger teased, pulling on a flannel and his jacket, "Don't expect me to trick me into giving you my jacket once we're out there 'cause suddenly you decided you're cold. I'm smarter than that."

"I'd be glad to show you around," Cooger said, lifting Hank from his shoulders and setting him down carefully, "You sure you'll be warm enough though? You can borrow one of my coats or hoodies if you need it."

"The ones in here and the ones you brought to me are all I've got right now," Cooger replied with a shrug, "Even without the kittens and Hank, that's seven cats. Just last week we had another, Goldfish, but she went to her forever home. She was great, an old little lady like Hank. She purred...

"A lot of cats, yeah. I mean, a lotta people will call it the zoomies, when suddenly they just feel the urge to run and play. Hank doesn't really, even when he was young, and The Baron clearly doesn't, but." He shrugged, "Greebles, what can ya do?"

"Yeah, she's gorgeous. I don't imagine she'll end up being here long, but she's still real skittish. I'm trying to teach her she ain't gotta be afraid of everything that moves," Cooger explained, "The greebles? See, sometimes cats they just go a little crazy. No reason for it, they'll just...

"One thing about cats is they always know when they're home," Cooger said, "Come on, let's go meet the rest of the colony. That one there, stretched out in the sunbeam, the grey one with socks, that's Potatobug, or P.B. or Mr. Pib for short. He's been her about a month and he is always either...

Hank mrowled at her and reached out one paw towards her face for a moment while Cooger stroked his back, "I've had him about thirteen years now. Hank and I were a team before I even had this place." He explained, turning around so he and not his cat could see Lex.

"Nah, he don't need me for my thumbs, he just likes the convenience of it, don't ya buddy?" He scratched Hank behind his ears and then scooped him up and stood again. Hank, used to his, settled himself over Cooger's shoulder as though it was where he belonged best. Turning his back slightly...

"Yes Ma'am," Cooger nodded, crouching down to pet Hank, "He's the real boss around these parts. You keep everyone in line, don't ya, Hank?"

"Oh Hank's the best," Cooger replied, kissing her forehead because she was just so cute when she smiled up at him like that. Then he headed downstairs and whistled. From the highest level of the cat tree, an old cat with a scarred face, and a torn ear mrowed deeply, hopped down with a heavy...

"Cats are the best." Cooger answered, "Do you want to meet the rest of who I have here?"

He sighed in satisfaction and put one arm around her waist, resting his head against hers, "Yeah, they're sweet. And fairly healthy, all things considered. Some of 'em might have an upper respiratory infection, but most kittens do when they've been out on the street like that. It ain't too...

Cooger worked with the skill of someone who had groomed many, many kittens and grown cats in his day. He held them firmly but gently, scruffing only when strictly necessary. Since they were kittens it wasn't too bothersome, but he still knew it could be distressing and therefore tended to...

"Let's start with the spicy ones so we get it over with. Not that I think any of them will enjoy this. I've got gloves if you want something to protect you." Cooger said, once more going into his bag and pulling out a bottle of dish soap and his grooming kit, "Cat scratches and bites can get...

Cooger, well acquainted with kittens, worked calmly around them, setting up the litter box, adding in a few cat beds despite knowing they'd only use the one, and occasionally reaching his hands into the kitten mess and pulling a few screaming ones back so the shyer and tinier ones definitely...

"Yep," Cooger chuckled, taking a quick picture of all seven of them enjoying their meal, "And they were hungry. It was probably awhile since they last ate, it's not like any of these have an ounce of survival instincts. In the bag I have some bowls, will you fill them with water? They're...

Cooger went into bag and set out a number of small metal plates with low sides, "They're probably weaned, so I've just got cans of kitten food. We just gotta put it on their platters and then it'll be like pigs at a trough."

"My name is just a fancy stone, and I don't know if you're the one to start talking about how to name a child," He teased heading downstairs to get the supplies. A little while later, he came back up, a play pen under one arm and a bag of supplies in the other. He sat the bag on the bed and...

"Tiger?!" Cooger asked aghast, turning around and leaning against the wide open doorway, "That one doesn't even have stripes!"