Still at the park.

You squeeze the beaming girl's hand and tousle her hair. "What's your name, little one?"

"I'm Trixie," she says as another body presses into your back, pale arms wrapping around your chest. "And that's Nora."

"He's cuddly! Thanks for giving Tibs a good home," a melodious voice with an Icelandic accent speaks from behind you.

Moments later, you find yourself trapped in a group hug, every one of the girls wants to get in close. You feel as if the roles have been reversed as their little hands stroke your bare arms or dart under your shirt for a quick feel of your abs, it's like you're the pet being lavished with attention.

Looking out over their heads, you can see Tibby grinning at you. "Don't get too attached John, you can't take them all home."

"If only," you respond to a collective aww as you picture this many kittens scampering around your apartment... and how much trouble they could cause if they were anything like Tibby.

"Is anyone else hungry?" you ask to in an attempt to shake off that terrifying vision. "Let's go back to the meadow where we can all sit down to eat."

With everyone in agreement you walk back through the forest, girls cavorting and skipping all around you.

You don't see the tiger woman this time. When you clear the treeline the game of frisbee is still going on but the chipmunk and her friend are gone, so you claim the picnic table which is just long enough for everyone to sit.

You end up in the middle of one of the long sides, with Ashley on your left and Tibby on your right. Sitting opposite are Nora, a tall and slender blonde with tiny cream-colored ears and pale blue eyes, Trixie, and the chubby Asian who introduces herself as Luci.

The man, who Tibby tells you is named Bernard, hands out foil bundles which get passed hand-to-hand from his place at the head of the table, and the smell of tuna sandwiches assaults your nostrils when the cats unwrap their food. How stereotypical, you think with amusement as you place your own meal on the table, a large tupperware container filled with fruit salad you had helped Ashley make this morning. It's meant to feed her, you, and Tibby, but you made a lot more than you need, which is fortunate because the nearest girls immediately start stealing morsels for themselves. You grin good-naturedly and indicate that they can help themselves.

When the cats have scarfed down their sandwiches there's still quite a bit of salad in the container, so you leave the table and make yourself comfortable on the soft grass, giving the girls who weren't sitting next to you at the table a chance to have some fruit too.

While tall blades of grass tickle your legs you continue talking and eating and scratching cats between their ears whenever they get close enough. The ones near you are fairly well-behaved, but the cats further out can't sit still for more than two minutes without a play-fight breaking out. You're pretty sure they're acting it up because they have an audience, even their caretaker's lips twitch every time they attack each other with a loud "Nyaa!"

But eventually your fruit salad runs out and Bernard announces that it's time for his entourage to head home. The girls whine a little, and draw out their departure by hugging each of you goodbye. Bernard pretends not to notice some of them loop back for a second round of hugs, but even that can only buy them so much time and soon they head out. At the gate they turn around to wave one last time before they leave the park.

Tibby, Ashley, and you decide to stay a while longer. You remain where you are while Ashley leans against your side and Tibby curls up with her head on your lap. You stroke her hair and slide a hand up Ashley's shirt to scratch her back while you watch the game of frisbee on the other side of the path wind down.

"This was nice," Ashley murmurs into your hair when you rest your own head on her shoulder.

"It was," you respond. "Do you want to come here more often? And you Tibby, to see your friends?"

Tibby opens her eyes to look up at you. "Yeah. They won't be able to meet us here regularly because there's so many pets to only a couple caretakers, but we could ask them to let us know whenever it's the cats' turn."

"Sounds good to me," Ashley agrees. "Of course we could come here without them too, this park is so much nicer than the one by John's apartment."

While you were talking the frisbee match ended and most of its participants headed for the exit. But the girl with the feather costume stopped to talk to a man who looks slighty older than you, and now they both cross the path to approach you.

"Hello, I'm Isabel," the bird introduces herself in a sing-song voice before addressing you one at a time. "I recognize you as one of the cats from Friendly Pets Inc, and I can surmise that you must be her new owner. But I have never seen you with the FPI rabbits before."

"That's Tibby, and this is Ashley. I didn't get her at a store," you answer for your girls. "I'm John, by the way."

"Frank," the man joins the conversation with a handshake after you stand up. "Your pets caught Isabel's eye while we were playing. She wants to know if you'd like to come to our place for some fun."

"Wow, that's very... forward," you stutter. "I'm flattered, but I don't think we'd be comfortable doing that with someone we know nothing about."

"Ah, that's a shame. If you change your mind, here's my number." He slips a card into your palm, takes Isabel by the hand, and leaves before you can respond.

Bewildered, you watch them go and then turn to Tibby and Ashley.

"What just happened?" Ashley asks, just as bemused as you.