Even that quick, fond pat on her fox's head sends a little thrill through Sadie, and she drifts over and presses a kiss to Frank's cheek while the two not-animals consider the question.

"Ooh!" says the fox with familiar enthusiasm, "I want to be Gregorius! No, Ulric! Oh, no - Cyriacus! Wait, no, Godeberto! No, Louis! Oh, no, Maximillian! Or, no - Augustine!" He wheels in a little circle. "Oh, how am I to pick just one?"