Chapter 336: Blue Peak

United States.

Suburbs of Los Angeles.

California has a unique geographical location. Even in winter, there is still plenty of sunshine and a mild and comfortable climate, which is extremely suitable for living and traveling.

Tim Keller was a big 6-foot-7 man, broad-shouldered, thick-chested, red-cheeked, bald-headed, with a bell-like voice that stood there like a forbidding wall. However, this giant, who anyone would think is a professional wrestler at a glance, is performing a scene of tough man tenderness.

He carefully picked up a kitten, held it in front of his chest like a baby, and carefully examined its physical condition with expert eyes. This is a two-month-old two-color puppet kitten. Most of the hair on the body is milky white, only the cheeks, forehead, ears and tail are light chocolate. The muzzle is as pink as the skin of a newborn baby. The pale blue eyes are as clear as crystal. Judging from the feedback from the fingers, its muscles are tight and elastic, and its hair is smooth and shiny.

"Great!" Tim murmured.

This puppet kitten is in very good condition and should please the client. When it grows to three months old, you can notify the long-waiting customers to come and pick it up.

He put it down, picked up a small comb with his big palm-like hands, and combed its hair gently, as gently as caring for a newborn.

Both Tim Keller and his wife Lauren are CFA-registered breeders. They jointly run the "Blue Summit" cattery, and the address of the cattery is their home. Their cat has won many championships in the tour and is well-known in the California area. Tim is in charge of the day-to-day operations, while his wife is in charge of communication with customers and other cattery.

After grooming the kitten, he let go of his hand and let it play freely in the house.

Tim scanned the room with his eyes. There are more than ten puppet kittens in the room, about two to three months old. Some of them have been booked by customers, and the others are still waiting for the boudoir. From the customer’s point of view, the fact is just the opposite. The cats in his cattery are in short supply. It’s just that he and his wife are very picky about the qualifications of customers. Anyone who they think is not suitable for keeping cats, including but not limited to students, overseas students, and those without a job People, the elderly who are too old, and those who live far outside California, etc., all pass.

The pass reasons listed above are only a small part. He and his wife are quite free to choose customers, even if the emails sent by customers are not sincere enough, or there is a trivial grammatical error in the text of the email, or the phone calls The other party's accent is a bit weird, which may be the reason for their refusal to sell, it's just so willful.

Most American cattery breeders are so capricious, and Tim and his wife added an extra adjective of "especially". In their opinion, if they are not able to keep cats for a long time, they should not keep them at all. It is good for both cats and people.

Tim walked around the room and quickly discovered the problem. He was afraid of scaring the kittens, so he came to the corridor angrily, and shouted: "Alan! Alan! Get the hell out of here, you brat!"

It wasn't until the second time that he shouted that a freckled boy ran over in a panic and looked up at him anxiously, "Sir, what's the matter?"

Alan was half the age of Tim, a head and a half shorter, and so thin that he would fall down in the wind. Standing together, it was like a featherweight boxer facing a heavyweight boxer.

"How many times have I told you! One more litter box than cats so they don't fight! Can anyone tell me what's in that container around your neck? Shit or something else Dirty things?" Tim poked Allen's chest with his index finger, brought his flushed face closer, and roared at the loudest volume.

"Sorry, sir, I'm really sorry." Alan's face was pale, his head was lowered, and he stared at Tim's fingers timidly. Tim's finger almost poked him,

almost. It must hurt to be poked by this carrot-thick finger. Tim's saliva sprayed on his face, but he didn't dare to wipe it off.

"I'm tired of hearing you say sorry!" Tim gritted his teeth, suppressed the anger of punching him into the wall, and turned back to point to the room where the puppet kittens were playing, "Go and correct your mistakes, immediately, immediately!"

"Yes, sir!" As if being pardoned, Allen slipped along the bottom of the wall in desperation.

"Stop!" Tim yelled after him again.

Alan stopped sweating profusely, not knowing what else this evil god was doing.

"Let's not take this as an example, understand?" Tim said in an unquestionable tone. Although it ended with a question mark, it didn't actually mean to ask. "Now, go to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Allen swallowed, and rushed into the room in a panic.

Tim was still angry in the corridor, panting heavily with his hips on his hips, and slammed his fists against the wall, causing the dust on the ceiling to fall on his bald head.

"Damn it!" he yelled cursingly, "I must have lost my mind to keep this brat who has done more than succeed and failed to work!"

"Tim, what happened?" His wife Lauren poked 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. Have you forgotten?"

"Sorry! Not next time." This time it was Tim's turn to say sorry, and his voice was soft. When facing his wife, he would transform from a monster into a kitten.

He and his wife have lived together for more than 20 years. They got to know each other because of cats. Later, they resigned from their jobs to run a professional cattery together. It can be said that they have been inseparable from cats all their lives.

"So what's going on?" she asked again.

"It's that brat Allen." He explained to his wife, "How many times have I told him, and you also said that the number of litter boxes is one more than the number of cats, which is related to the professionalism of our cattery. Image problem, you must not make such low-level mistakes, otherwise you will leave a bad impression when customers come to visit. We demand high standards from customers, and we must also maintain high standards in front of customers. But this brat just doesn’t listen , took these words as wind on his ears, hung his head down and played with his mobile phone all day frizzy, just thinking about how to pick up girls from the Internet..."

"Aren't all young people like this?" Lauren said with a big smile, "When he really falls in love, he will grow from a boy to a man."

"I wasn't like that," Tim insisted.

Lauren jokingly said: "Yeah, you were shy like a little girl at the time, and you wanted me to take the initiative to invite you to the dance."

"Don't mention these old things." After many years, Tim was still shy when talking about this matter. He waved his hand, "Have you finished answering your emails? Go and take a rest after you finish answering."

"Speaking of this..." Lauren waved to him, "Honey, come here, come to the study."

"What's the matter?" Tim stood still, "Can you wait a while? I have to mow the lawn outside."

"It's best to come here now, there is something you have to see with your own eyes." Lauren said to him mysteriously.