Down The Drain

During the summer of 1976 we decided to move from St. Cloud to Orlando, since we both worked in Orlando and were very active in the First Unitarian Church of Orlando. I had a great job building scenery, exhibits and displays, and Carmen was a paralegal and office manager for a law firm. Orlando summers are brutal, so we decided to splurge and hire local movers to do the job.

Carmen arranged the whole thing. The movers would load out in the early morning, we would leave the three cats at the St. Cloud house during the first closing in the late morning, then drive our loaded vehicles to the next closing, leaving our three cats in our new house in Orlando while we signed more papers.

We put the cats out on the screened in porch while the movers worked. Two of them were accustomed to that location, having lounged out there for seven years. Peanut, however, was a seven month old kitten, not to be caged anywhere. He shot out the door the instant I opened it, and took off running. I followed him as fast as I could run. We had a closing to get to, and this delay was not factored into the schedule . My heart sank when he dove into a storm drain.

Wearing my fancy closing duds, I flopped down on my belly and looked in. There he sat, looking at me, just within reach. I reached in, sure that he would evade my grasp. To my surprise, I was able to grab the scruff of his neck and haul him out of there.

The rest of the plan proceeded on schedule.