Sarah had been burned enough times that she wasn't going to get excited.
Another calming product. Another claim.
Another thing that would sit on the counter for three weeks before she accepted it wasn't working.
But Donna had eight cats. Eight.
And her house smelled like a candle store and sounded like a library.
If Donna said something worked, Sarah was at least going to look it up.
She found the website that evening after dinner.
AquaCats Calming Chews. Chicken flavor.
She read the ingredients. L-theanine. Chamomile. Thiamine.
She read a few reviews. Then a few more.
Then she ordered a bag.
The bag arrived on a Thursday.
Sarah held one chew out to Luna on her open palm — half expecting the usual retreat, the suspicious sniff, the slow walk in the opposite direction.
Luna sniffed it.
Then ate it straight from her hand.
Sarah stood in the kitchen for a moment, slightly stunned.
Day one. No accident.
Day two. Luna seemed quieter. Not lethargic — just settled. Less like she was waiting for something to go wrong.
Day three. Luna used her litter box.
Sarah didn't say anything to Tom. She didn't want to jinx it.
Day four. Litter box again.
Day five. She realized she hadn't mopped the floor once since the bag arrived.
By the end of the first week, Sarah sent Donna a voice message at 11pm that was mostly just crying.
Not sad crying.
The other kind.
What hit her hardest wasn't even the clean floors.
It was Luna herself.
She was sleeping differently — deeper, longer, fully stretched out instead of curled tight. She was coming into rooms she'd been avoiding for months.
She was sitting next to Tom on the couch instead of watching from the doorway.
Sarah hadn't realized how tense Luna had been until she wasn't anymore.
She hadn't noticed how small her cat had made herself — how guarded, how permanently braced for something — until she watched her roll onto her back in a sunspot on a Tuesday afternoon and just... stay there.
"I didn't realize what the stress had done to her," Sarah told Donna on the phone.
"I was so focused on the floor, on the accidents, on fixing the problem — I didn't see how unhappy she actually was. She's like a different cat. She's like the cat I brought home from the shelter."
Tom noticed by day six without being told.
He came into the kitchen on Saturday morning, looked at the clean floor, looked at Luna asleep in the sunspot, and said: "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
Sarah held up the bag.
He read the label. Nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry I said what I said," he told her. "About the shelter."