It was around that time; it was raining at night, and continued until morning. While opening the kitchen door, Clara heard scratching beneath the garden table. A soaked white kitten stared from between two overturned flowerpots. He appeared frightened but refused to retreat, even when Clara carefully reached toward him with both hands.
Clara wrapped him inside Henry’s gardening coat and carried him indoors. The kitten immediately climbed onto Henry’s empty chair, circled twice, and fell asleep. Clara searched for an owner, but nobody responded to her notices. By the following week, she had named him Bubbles, using Henry’s favorite ridiculous suggestion.