Perfect Timing
After I get pregnant with my second child, all the pets in my household start viewing me as their biggest enemy.
The tabby cat who once loved clinging to me now poops in my nutritious meals every day.
The parrot who only knows how to repeat "hello" begins cursing at me to suffer from a miscarriage. "Die, Leanne Foster!"
When I feed the goldfish, they protest against my efforts by quitting food entirely. The next day, they are all dead.
Even the terrier I've kept with me for ten years lunges at me like a mad bitch the moment she sees the baby clothes in my hands.
After I almost suffer from a miscarriage, I plan on giving the pets away.
But my daughter, Harper Steele, hugs the terrier and the cat as she pleads to me sadly, "Mommy, please don't give them away!"
My husband, Adam Steele, is worried about my unborn baby, but he also doesn't want to hurt Harper's feelings. In the end, he comes up with a compromising solution.
"Honey, there's still one month left till your due date. Just endure the pets for a month, okay? I'll lock them up in their crates and make sure that you're safe."
Eventually, I agree to that solution after giving it some thought.
But unexpectedly, on the day my water breaks, as soon as I dial Adam's number, the pets rush out of their crates simultaneously and begin tearing at my stomach with their claws and fangs. In the end, I close my eyes weakly from the sheer pain.
I can never understand why my pets hate the unborn baby in my womb that much.
When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I find out I'm pregnant with my second child.