"DAD!" The 8-year-old giggled. "Where are you taking me?" She questioned her dad, who was leading her down the stairs, with his hands over hisher eyes.

"Just a minute, Emmy, we're almost there.," Herher dad said back, with a laugh.

"What did iI tell you about calling me that?" She said, handwith hands on her hips.

"Sorry, Em. Ha! Here we are, you can open them now." Robert took his hands away and watched in amusement, as his daughter stood there, jawjaws open wide.

He was about to open his mouth to ask how she liked the present when she screamed. "I'm guessing you like it?" He asked.

"YES!Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She jumped up and down, then ran over and scooped up the small, ginger furredginger-furred cat.