My boyfriend Jeremy and I were, I guess, married.  We had a small kitten, less than 15 weeks, black.  Because of the age, being so young, I had to nurse it.  A little trouble at first, but I got his mouth on my left nipple, which was apparently all the conditioning it needed.  I felt a maternal connection to it.  While I was doing this, Jeremy was occupied with someone else.  The kitten stopped and the other person left, and I was concerned about the fact that it was like we already had a child, and we'd lost our freedom in acquiring it.  The nanny arrived; she was very much like a man in a dress.  Norwegian, I think.  I talked to her, and she had been confused.  She had though the flight was for 9 at night, not in the morning.  I apologized and Jeremy came in and talked to her.  We were going to let the nanny litter box train the cat, and teach it to roll over, and I felt that while it would be helpful, we'd also be missing out on the cat's life and the joy of having it.  I nursed the cat again on the right side.  This time when I picked up the cat, it was more like a mouse.  We left the room and now Jeremy was gone, but my brother Stuart was there.  We were sitting in a sort of waiting room and the TV was on, but I got excited when I heard the music for Quantum Leap in the next room.