Stepping on the porch, he stamps his feet to remove the mud from his boots before taking them off and placing them beside the door. As he enters the kitchen, he immediately smells the familiar aroma of coffee brewing.
“Breakfast’s ready, have a seat” his wife says. “How’re the kittens”?
“Damn cat” he says. “Should have run her off when she showed up last year. Don’t know why she stays where she ain’t wanted. Nothing but a nuisance is all she is. Now got all those little ones running around. I hate cats”.
She places a plate before him and pours him a cup of coffee. He hungrily digs in, sopping up his eggs with a warm biscuit. He tips his cup and pours some coffee in his saucer, blowing on it to cool it off. “Damn cat” he mumbles.
When finished, he carries his dishes to the sink, rinsing them and setting them on the side board. When her back is turned, he quickly grabs the saucer and stuffs it in the pocket of his bib overalls. “I’m going to milk the cows” he says.
“Take care” she calls, pretending not to notice. In another moment he is gone.
He grabs his stool and bucket and sets to milking, the warm liquid quickly consuming the container. He rises and walks into a distant stall. Bending down, he pulls out the purloined saucer and fills it from the bucket in his hand, placing it beside the squirming litter, watching as they stagger to its brim. A hint of a smile escapes from the corners of his mouth.
“Damn cat” he mutters. “Don’t know why she stays where she ain’t wanted”.