There are toesies. There are itsybitsy toesiewosies sticking up in the basket, and Detlef can't help but look at the basket from the other side of the counter. A beat later he looks at the stall owner with a smile and nods.

"How old? This one is about five months now." He gently pats his shirt pocket, which has a black-and-white tail sticking out of it. "Her name is Moose, because she thinks she's much bigger than she is."