Daddy in the Making

Longing for food and then bed, Jake McClure fumed over being forced to delay both. As he jogged through the winter's early darkness toward the church, his basset hound Bummer padded along beside him over the hard-packed snow. Jake slammed the side door behind him, shutting out the below-zero windchill. He paused, his glasses fogged from the temperature change, permitting himself to let the burn of irritation build inside.

Earlier after catching up on voice mails, Jake had felt compelled to come here to find Mike, to see if he'd done harm to himself. Glasses clear, Jake shuffled down the steps, with Bummer trailing behind. The two of them entered the brightly lit church basement, where laughter punctuated cheerful voices of those attending the fundraiser potluck. As he scanned faces for Mike's, several people, many of whom recognized him from his vet practice, greeted him.

Then the door opened behind him, letting in another rush of Arctic wind. Two little girls rushed down the steps.

"We found two kittens!" they shouted. "Out in the snow!"

Jake turned. He saw two little girls so bundled up that little of them showed, except their pink noses and tendrils of blond hair. And in the mittened hands of each little girl, a small golden tabby kitten mewed and shivered. He hurried to them and knelt down on the hard, cold linoleum. "Where did you find these little ones?"

"They were in the snow near where I parked," a tall woman behind the girls replied, her voice low and rich. "Are they okay? It's so cold out and the kittens are so tiny." She dropped to her knees beside him.

"I think their eyes have just opened recently," Jake said. At his elbow, Bummer did something unusual. He licked one kitten and then the other with his big tongue.

"Don't let him bite the kitties!" one of the little girls cried.

Jake held up a hand. "Bummer isn't going to hurt them. L