The mother cat and babies cuddled together on a soft mattress next to a window. They calmly watched Tammie and I slowly approach them. Two of the babies wore gray and white coats, one had an all-gray coat. Seeing one of the gray and white kittens sit up, I reached down and scooped her up. After a brief struggle to escape, the kitten became still until I turned to look at an all-gray kitten that Tammie had in her arms. Then, the little gray and white in my arms used my distraction to escape.

The animal shelter worker smilingly informed us, “We are having a special this weekend where you can adopt two animals for the price of one.”

My daughter put down the gray kitten and mused, “My older cat, Lucy, might not warm up to a kitten, so maybe I should get two, so they can play with each other. But is my house big enough for three cats?”

Tammie chose to adopt two siblings: a gray and white kitten that resembled the cat Tammie had at home and the all-gray kitten. The shelter worker picked up the three-month-old babies and touched their noses to their mother’s nose to properly have them say goodbye to each other.

On the way home, my daughter and I discussed what to name the kittens. She insisted, “These babies should have old fashioned names to match Lucy’s name.” We settled on Sophie for the gray kitten and Tressie for the gray and white kitten.

Once home, we opened their travel boxes. After the kittens were shown the litter pan, food, and water, they disappeared. I didn’t see them for the next three days, but I knew where they were. Occasionally a tail or paw would pop into view from under the sofa. The litter box was being used appropriately: food and water disappeared. On day four, I told Tammie, “I don’t know how these kittens are going to behave for you. They haven’t come out of hiding yet.”

The kittens were adopted on Thanksgiving weekend, and Tammie had to return home for a couple weeks, returning for a longer visit over Christmas. By the time my daughter returned, the kittens came out of hiding to aggressively demand pets and attention. They quickly adapted to their new surroundings and were very affectionate.  On Christmas Day, they disappeared again. Tammie felt bad because she wanted Niki, her sister, to meet her new pets. Having cats of her own, Niki assured her, “There were a lot of people here and loud sounds. Just the kids and I will visit later this week. We’ll get to meet them then, because they won’t be so scared.”

Tressie and Sophie hid again the next time Niki came to visit. Niki just laughed and teased, “I think you only have imaginary kittens.” A full year after they were adopted, the trend continued. The gray, furry shadows disappeared on each of Niki’s next several visits. Even Tammie’s pet sitter has never really seen Tressie and Sophie. She told Tammie, “When I come to the house to feed them, clean the litter and to play, I sometimes see a gray cat sitting in the window, but by the time I unlock the house door, the only cat I can find is Lucy.”

Tammie brought Lucy, Tressie and Sophie home with her for a three-week visit over Christmas again this year. All three felines were upset by this rude disruption of their normal daily routine. They cried indignantly most of the three-hour drive to my house. The minute their crates were opened, the kittens disappeared. We didn’t hear a peep out of them for the next few hours. Lucy didn’t hide. She greedily licked the liquid pate treat, happy that she didn’t have to share with the kittens.

When Tressie and Sophie finally emerged, the two sleek, gray, one-year-old kittens stropped back and forth against my legs and rubbed their faces into my hands. I commented to Tammie, “It’s weird that only you and I can see these imaginary kittens.”