Liz rolls her eyes, though in deference to how understanding she's trying to be, it is a very small eye roll. "She'd take good care of a cat," she says, leaning forward over her knees; she doesn't bother to address his intentional misunderstanding. "And you are almost up to 30 again."

She thinks. It's hard to count a room full of constantly moving cats, especially when there are lots of places for them to hide.

Liz likes cats, but 30 is a lot for her.