Angel sat in his room holding his cat Misty and wondered what to do. He had heard his mother tell his father, "Tomorrow morning, we will take Misty to the veterinarian to be spayed."

"Spaded??" Angel said to himself. Angel didn't know what spaded meant. A spade to him was one of the shapes on his playing cards. He could only imagine what Misty would look like if she was spaded.

"Yes," Angel's father told his mother. "It is not right to have a cat that can multiply."