Always crazy about animals, I’ve written before about some of my beloved pets over the years, even my two attention-deficient goldfish! (See Missing Pussycats, Fluffy, or How I Got My Dog, Fluffy and the Alligator Shoes, ASPCA and Naval Funeral)
When D and I were newly married we lived in Westchester in a lovely four-story apartment building with garages out back for us tenants.
One afternoon I had to pick up D at the Pelham train station and I was running late. I cut through the basement on my way to the garage, and as I hurried along I spotted a tiny black kitten curled up on the basement floor.
Barely slowing my pace I scooped up the kitten and continued out to the car. Then, steering with my left hand and holding the kitten in my right, I drove to the station, and when I saw D walking toward the car I held the kitten up to the windshield for him to see.
My favorite childhood cat had been gray in color and was appropriately named Smokey. Although this kitten was all black I decided nevertheless to dub him with the same name.
”Look who I found in the basement!”, I told my husband as he got in the car. “Let’s keep him and call him Smokey!”
And so we did!
Dana Susan Lehrman
This retired librarian loves big city bustle and cozy country weekends, friends and family, good books and theatre, movies and jazz, travel, tennis, Yankee baseball, and writing about life as she sees it on her blog World Thru Brown Eyes!