100 kittens and a puppy

I had decided that for my wedding favors I was going to give everyone their own tiny kitten in a bag, so I went to the pound and rescued 100 kittens and brought them home.  I knew that I was going to package them in little gift bags, so I put them all in their bags, put the bags in crates, and drove them home to my childhood house in Ottumwa to leave them in the study (which growing up I called the Barbie room, because that's where my Barbies lived).  I left to run some errands and it occurred to me that there wasn't enough room in the Barbie room for all those kittens, so I moved half of them into the screened in porch, feeling much better about my treatment of my crated, bagged kittens.

Then the vet called, reminding me that I needed food and litter for all of the kittens, and that I was going to have to pay to get all of them vaccinated before I gave them away.  Crap!  I hadn't thought of any of these things, and suddenly the kittens were costing me thousands of dollars.  So I got my supplies, and returned fully equipped to take care of my tribe of kittens.  I decided to bring them all to the porch so as not to mess up the other rooms, so I freed them from their crates and encouraged them to go upstairs.  That's when I realized that the kittens had turned hostile and had formed gangs within their individual crates.  They all started marching around in groups lashing out at each other.  It was then that I noticed that one of my kittens was actually a tiny golden retriever that the pound had given me my mistake.  The poor thing was outnumbered but had banded together to join his crate's gang in the fight.  I realized that my wedding was probably ruined, so I ran outside crying and left the kittens (and puppy) to work it out among themselves.