I used to think the three-bedroom bungalow I shared with Danica was a little on the small side, but when you stood less than thirty centimetres tall and were just barely half a meter long from your nose to the tip of your tail, a little one-level suburban home was absolutely massive.

Not only was it like running around in the biggest castle I could ever imagine, but there were countless places to hide or squeeze through or under. And so many opportunities to climb!

And to think barely a year ago I told my daughter we couldn't get a cat because we couldn't afford to replace the furniture it might destroy with its claws. Now I was climbing up the back of that same furniture, with my own claws sunk deep into the upholstery.

Even more fun than furniture was climbing curtains! What they lacked in stability they more than made up for in altitude, and the way they swayed made it even more fun. Too bad the curtain rods weren't a comfy place to rest.

For that we had the bookcases. When I reached the top of the living-room sofa I spotted my daughter perched ontop of our tallest bookcase in the corner, licking her paw and rubbing her ears just as smug as she could be.

It took me two tries to figure out how she did it. The direct approach was possible but difficult, and I accidentally pulled down some books and knocked over some nicknacks. The smarter option was the way to go.

I climbed up onto the back of the leather recliner, and from there I jumped onto the smaller bookcase where we stored movies and games. That was just under a meter and a half jump away from the top of the tallest bookcase where my daughter was quietly watching my progress.

Crouched right at the edge, I looked carefully to gauge the distance. I flexed and tensed the muscles in my hind legs, and I just knew my butt was wiggling but I tried not to think about that. Then when I was confident, I leapt.

Danica meowed at me as I almost crashed into her, but I ended up perched atop the bookcase beside her, and my Goddess the view from up there was good. It was the perfect place to relax and observe the entire living-room. We could even see part-way into the kitchen, and a bit of the front yard too through the window next to the TV.

With the two of us sat side by side atop the bookcase, my daughter and I spent a few minutes purring and grooming each other. Then when that was done we both settled down and quietly watched over our domain together.

A few minutes later Danica curled up and fell asleep, but I stayed awake. I got comfortable, and briefly marvelled at the fact that I could get so comfy practically anywhere. There I was sat ontop of a dusty bookcase barely twenty-five centimetres deep, and I could have fallen asleep just as easily as Danica.

She was curled up in a ball with her chin resting on one of her back feet, her tail wrapped around over her nose, eyes closed, the only movement from her slow steady breaths. Her ears were still up and alert though, monitoring for any noise or movement.

Danica's fur was silvery-grey with black markings in the typical tabby pattern, from the M shape on her forehead to the stripes on her back and sides to the rings around her tail. The fur on her belly was lighter, almost silvery-white, while her back and sides were a little darker.

One thing that perplexed me was for some reason she turned out bigger than I was, both as a cat and as a girl. The two little key-chain plushies were the same size, so I had no idea why she was the larger cat while I was the smaller one.

As a catgirl her hair was now the same silver-grey colour of her fur and her eyes remained bright green like they were in her cat shape. Both of those were different from the light blonde hair and blue eyes she'd been born with. Her ears and tail kept their tabby markings in either form. Apart from those differences, her catgirl body was practically identical to her original self. Same height, same face, same Danica.

We learned all that prior to spending the last hour or two playing and chasing each other around the house. After her initial transformation she and I spent about an hour experimenting with our plushies, to try and understand what the rules were or how they worked.

First we determined that they only seemed to work for one person, so she couldn't use mine and I couldn't use hers. Next we figured out they worked best when you were only touching them rather than holding them. And you definitely needed to meow to trigger the transformation, other cat noises wouldn't work.

Finally we were both fairly confident that there was no going back. Danica would never be a normal human girl again, and I would never again be the awkward ungainly Mr. Blake. And for that I was eternally grateful.

The fact that both of us would be stuck with cat ears and tails for the rest of our lives was something I was less certain about, especially when it came to my daughter. She seemed happy with her situation though, and I was still giddy and euphoric about my own transformation.

One really big thing we both needed to be extremely careful about was not losing those plushies. Especially while we were in cat form, or we'd have no way to change back. And as fun as it was to be a cat, I wasn't sure I'd be prepared to spend the rest of my life on all fours.

With that thought on my mind, I decided it was time for me to be a girl again.

I got to my feet and glanced back at the other bookcase, but rather than retrace my path there was an easier way to get down. The sofa was only about two meters away, and I was almost positive I could make the jump.

I hopped over Danica without waking her, then moved to the end of the bookcase closest to the sofa. I lined up, gauged the distance, and after a few butt-wiggles I launched myself off the bookcase.

The feeling was incredible, there was a thrill mixed with some fear, but I landed safely on the soft cushions. From there I hopped down to the floor and wandered into the kitchen, then jumped up on the table. Our two little plushies were still there where we left them, along with all our clothes.

With a paw resting on the knitted black cat I quietly meowed, then stared out the kitchen window for a few moments.

That was another thing we learned through our experiments, somehow it was impossible to notice when we changed. I wasn't sure if the magic somehow only worked when you weren't paying attention, or if the magic actually made it so you couldn't see it happen. Either way, the easiest way to trigger the change was to ignore it for a few seconds.

And sure enough when I looked a moment later I was a catgirl, sitting crosslegged and naked on the kitchen table.

Apparently I hadn't been as quiet as I'd thought, because when I got up off the table Danica was there to rub against my ankles. Then while I pulled on my oversized track pants and t-shirt she hopped up on the table and used her own plushy to turn back as well.

I looked away while she pulled on her top and panties, but she left her jeans on the chair for now.

"We need to do something about our clothes," she commented. "I can give you some older things I've outgrown, but you're going to have to do some shopping. And we both need to figure out some tail-friendly pants or something."

That sent some excited flutters through my stomach, while at the same time my cheeks coloured with embarrassment. I was eager to go shopping for cute new clothes, but I also felt awkward at the thought of accepting hand-me-downs from my teenage daughter.

"I wonder why I ended up being so small while you stayed the same size," I commented with a little pout.

Danica smirked, "My theory is you needed to be extra cute. Which worked, because you're definitely very cute Nisha."

My cheeks grew brighter, but at the same time I was purring while my tail was standing up tall and proud. Both were signs of a happy cat.

"Now c'mon," my daughter added as she marched out of the kitchen. "Let's figure out some clothes, because your 'old t-shirt and track pants' look is the opposite of cute."

The next hour or two were equal parts awkward, amazing, and fun. Danica and I went through just about every article of clothing in her entire bedroom, we emptied her dresser and closet as the two of us figured out what worked for her and what worked better on me.

We also made plans to go shopping together, either tomorrow afternoon or Wednesday perhaps, so I could get a few more things since my wardrobe of her old clothes was rather limited.

Still, I came out of it with a couple pairs of panties and a bra she'd outgrown, two pairs of leggings, and three old t-shirts. Footwear was the main problem, the only thing she had that fit me was an old pair of flip-flops. Though I'd been barefoot all day and hadn't had a problem with that.

I knew I'd need shoes if we went out, since most stores had a rule about shirts and shoes for some reason. So I'd save the flip-flops for when we went shopping, and maybe pick myself up some cute sneakers or something too if I saw any that caught my eye.

For now I was comfy in a pair of cute black leggings and a tight pink t-shirt, while Danica left her legs bare and went for a short forest green sundress.

Then we spent another half hour tidying up her room and putting all her clothes away, before spending another thirty or forty minutes in my room emptying my closet and dresser into a couple big plastic bags. All that would be donated someplace, since none of it fit and I definitely didn't want to wear that stuff anymore anyways.

With all that out of the way we were both hungry, but neither of us felt like cooking. So we decided to order in, and both of us unanimously agreed on chicken wings. We put on the TV then promptly ignored it, and talked more as the two of us enjoyed dinner.

After dinner we had another little burst of energy, but we both stayed in our catgirl forms rather than turn into kitties to race around the house like we did earlier.

And finally as dusk slowly gave way into night, Danica and I found ourselves sitting together on the roof of the house. We were both crosslegged, perched at the peak of the shallow sloped roof, where we had a good view of the rest of the neighbourhood.

I had a gulp of milk then quietly offered my daughter the carton.

She smiled as she accepted it, and after a sip she commented "Isn't milk bad for cats?"

"Probably," I grimaced. "That's how it works, right? If it tastes really good it must be unhealthy?"

My daughter giggled quietly, then sighed as she leaned against me. She handed the milk carton back to me then wrapped her tail around onto her lap and started idly playing with it. A few moments later I could hear her purring softly as her hands gently stroked the silver and black fur.

"Today's been amazing," she commented quietly. "Thank you so much for sharing this with me. And I'm so happy for you dad, that you changed like that? You look amazing and cute. And you look happier and more alive than I've ever seen you before."

I closed the milk carton and set it down next to me, then responded softly "You're welcome Danica. I'm glad you're happy. I'm a little worried about what we'll do tomorrow though? You have to go back to school, and I have to get back to work."

Her quiet purring tapered off and we were both silent for a few moments.

Eventually she shrugged, "You work from home so nobody even needs to know you've changed, right? It's all email and internet for you. And I'm not worried about myself either. Honestly I'm kind of excited to show off my ears and tail to my friends!"

I cautioned, "Don't take your plushy to school, you don't want to lose that. In fact I'd rather you didn't even mention it to anyone."

"Don't worry dad," she stated. "I'll be keeping it safe at home. And I won't tell anyone how all this happened. That'll be our secret."

She hesitated a moment then asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to do for yourself? I mean, you can keep this hidden for a while but eventually folks from work will find out. You'll have a phone call or video call or something."

After a few seconds to think it over I nodded, "First thing tomorrow morning I'm going to let work know about my new name and pronouns. And I've had the name-change paperwork in my desk for the past year, I'll mail that off. No point trying to hide anymore right? I hated being Mr. Blake even when that's how I looked. I can't see myself being happy keeping up the act when I look like this."

"I've been Nisha for the last two years," I added. "I'm finally going to stop hiding and be the real me."

Danica smiled, "That's awesome dad, I'm so happy for you!"

A moment later she frowned, "Or should I call you Nisha now? Does it bother you if I call you dad?"

I gave her a hug, "It doesn't bother me hon. You're welcome to call me Nisha, but you can keep calling me dad too. Although other people might think it's weird if they overheard, considering I look more like your sister than a father."

"My little sister," she teased with a wide grin. "My cute little catgirl sister."

"Hush you," I pouted as my cheeks went bright red. The pout didn't last long though, replaced by a happy grin.

Danica and I were quiet again for a while after that, as we enjoyed the evening air together. Our eyes worked pretty well in the dark even as catgirls, so we had no trouble seeing everything around us.

It was somewhere close to midnight when the two of us finally jumped down off the roof into the yard, then went back into the house. We bid each other a quiet goodnight, then she disappeared into her room while I went into mine.

A few minutes later I was undressed and curled up under the blankets in bed, and I fell asleep with a wide smile on my face.

Today had been one improbable and amazing thing after another, and I loved every moment of it. I couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

~ The End ~