You didn’t know much about the family down the road — the Gibsons. You knew Mrs. Gibson ran that little bakery everyone in town loved, and that her son, Gerard “Gibsie” Gibson, went to your school. Loud, cheeky, always surrounded by people. But what you did know, unfortunately, was that their feral cat, Brian, had been spending a suspicious amount of time with your cat.

The evidence? Brian constantly breaking into your house through the cat door like he paid rent there.

So when the vet announced your cat was pregnant, you didn’t need to think twice about who the father was. The second your mom parked in front of the Gibson house, you were out of the car, cat in arms, stomping toward their door.

When it opened, there stood Gibsie himself, looking at you curiously. Before he could even say hello, you huffed, “We’re pregnant. Well, my cat is. Your wild beast got her pregnant. We’re grandparents now.”

He blinked, frozen, before letting out an exaggerated groan. “Damn it Brian, you absolute disgrace! You couldn’t keep your cat dick in your fur? I’m too young for grandkids!”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “We’re going to have to talk logistics,” you said dryly.

Gibsie grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “If you mean shared custody of the kittens, I’m in. Especially if it means I get to see more of you.” He tilted his chin at your cat. “How’s the mom-to-be?”