One day, way back when I was living in Dallas, must have been about 1998, I was driving to work down Royal Lane [which has a grassy median], and I almost hit the car in front of me when the driver slammed on the breaks. I was pretty pissed, to say the least, until I saw what at first I thought was a rat run out in front of the car. By the time the “rat” got to the median, I realized it was a kitten. So I stopped. I couldn’t leave a kitten to survive on a four lane, busy street like Royal.
Yes, there is a sucker born every minute, and stray cats know where we live.
That’s the day that BlackBeary found me. I stuffed her under my shirt and drove this starving waif to the vet. She’s been with me ever since. I named her BlackBeary because with her sitting there, in the palm of my hand [she was that young, that small], she looked like a tiny black bear.