The United States.
Suburbs of Los Angeles.
California had a unique geographical location. Even in winter, there was still plenty of sunshine, and the climate was mild and comfortable. It was very suitable for living and traveling.
Tim Keller was a big man of 6 feet 7 inches, with broad shoulders, a thick chest, a red face, a bald head, and a loud voice. Standing there, he was like a daunting wall. However, this giant, who anyone would think was a professional wrestler at first glance, was putting on a show of tenderness.
He carefully picked up a kitten, held it in front of his chest like a treasure, and carefully examined its physical state with the eyes of an expert. This was a two-month-old two-color Ragdoll kitten. Most of the fur on its body was milky white, only its cheeks, forehead, ears, and tail were light chocolate. Its mouth and nose were as pink as a newborn baby's skin, and its almond-shaped light blue eyes were as clear and flawless as crystals. From the feedback of his fingers, its muscles were tight and elastic, and its fur was smooth and glossy.
"Great!" Tim murmured to himself.
This Ragdoll kitten was in very good condition, and should satisfy the customer. When it grew up, he could inform the customer who had been waiting for it to come and pick it up.
He put it down, picked up a small comb with his big hand, and gently combed its fur, as gentle as taking care of a newborn.
Tim Keller and his wife, Lauren, were both registered breeders of the CFA. They jointly ran the "Blue Climax" cattery, and the address of the cattery was their home. Their cats had won many championships on the circuit, and had a small reputation in the California area. Tim was in charge of the daily operation, while his wife was responsible for communicating with customers and other catteries.
After combing the kitten's fur, he loosened his hand and let it play freely in the house.
Tim's eyes glanced around the house. There were more than ten Ragdoll kittens in the house, and they were about two to four months old. Some of them had been reserved by customers, and the others were still unmarried — it was not that there were no customers. In fact, the cats in his cattery were in short supply. However, he and his wife were very picky about the qualifications of their customers. Those who they thought were not suitable for raising cats, including but not limited to students, overseas students, unemployed people, elderly people, and people who lived far away from California, were all rejected.
The reasons listed above were only a small part of it. He and his wife were quite arbitrary when it came to choosing customers. Even if the email sent by the customer was not sincere enough, or there was a trivial grammatical error in the body of the email, or the other party's accent on the phone was a little strange, they could all be reasons to refuse to sell. That was how capricious they were.
Most cattery breeders in the United States were so capricious and picky, and Tim and his wife had to add the adjective "especially". In their opinion, if one could not afford to keep a cat for a long time, they should not keep it.
Tim walked around the room and soon found the problem. He was afraid of scaring the kittens, so he angrily came to the hallway and shouted, "Alan! Alan! Get your ass over here, you little brat! "
After shouting for the second time, a young boy with freckles on his face ran over in a panic and looked up at him anxiously, "Sir, what's the matter?"
Alan was half Tim's age, a head and a half shorter, and so skinny that he could be blown away by the wind. When the two stood together, it was like a featherweight boxer facing a heavyweight boxer.
"How many times have I told you! The number of cat litter boxes must be one more than the number of cats, so they won't fight! Who can tell me what is in the container on your neck? Is it shit or something else dirty? " Tim poked Alan's chest with his index finger, put his red face close, and shouted at the top of his voice.
"Sorry, sir, I'm really sorry." Alan's face was pale, and he lowered his head, staring at Tim's finger. Tim's finger almost poked him, almost. If he was poked by this carrot-like finger, it would be very painful. Tim's spittle sprayed on his face, but he didn't dare to wipe it off.
"I'm tired of hearing you say sorry!" Tim clenched his teeth and suppressed his anger that punched Alan into the wall. He turned around and pointed to the room where the Ragdoll kittens were playing. "Go and correct your mistake, immediately, immediately!"
"Yes, sir!" Alan felt as if he had been pardoned, and he slipped away along the wall.
"Stop!" Tim roared again from behind.
Alan was sweating profusely, and he didn't know what else this devil wanted.
"Don't do it again. Do you understand?" Tim said in an unquestionable tone. Although he ended his sentence with a question mark, he actually didn't mean to ask. "Now, get to work!"
"Yes, sir!" Allen swallowed his saliva and rushed into the room in a panic.
Tim was still angry in the hallway. He put his hands on his waist and panted. He even punched the wall with his fist, and the dust on the ceiling fell on his bald head.
"Damn it!" He scolded, "I must have lost my mind. That's why I let this useless brat stay and work for me!"
"Tim, what happened?" His wife, Lauren, stuck her head out of the study and looked at her husband worriedly. "The doctor told you not to lose your temper all the time. It's bad for your heart. Did you forget?"
"Sorry! I won't do it again. "This time it was Tim's turn to apologize, and his voice was also very soft. When facing his wife, he would change from a giant beast to a kitten.
He and his wife had been together for more than 20 years. They got to know each other because of cats, and they became friends because of cats. Later, they quit their jobs to run a cattery together. It could be said that they had a lifelong relationship with cats.
"So what's going on?" she asked again.
"It's Alan, the brat." He explained to his wife, "I told him many times, and you also said that the number of cat litter boxes is one more than the number of cats. This is related to the professional image of our cattery, and we can't make such a low-level mistake. Otherwise, it will leave a bad impression when customers come to visit. We have high standards for customers, and we also have to maintain high standards in front of customers. But this brat just doesn't listen to us. He turns a deaf ear to our words and plays with his cell phone all day long, thinking about how to pick up girls on the Internet... "
"Young people nowadays are all like this, aren't they?" Lauren smiled generously. "When he really falls in love, he will grow from a boy to a man."
"I was not like this at that time," Tim insisted.
Lauren joked, "Yes, you were as shy as a little girl, and you even asked me to invite you to the dance."
"Don't mention these old things." After so many years, Tim was still shy when talking about this. He waved his hand. "Have you finished answering your emails? If you have, go and have a rest. "
"Speaking of this..." Lauren waved to him. "Honey, come here, come to the study."
"What's up?" Tim stood still. "Can I wait for a while? I have to mow the lawn outside. "
"You'd better come now. There is something you have to see with your own eyes," Lauren said to him mysteriously.
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