My beloved cat Cherie came into our lives shortly after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 at a time when a malaise had settled upon many of us; a shocking, demoralizing, and tragic start of a fall term at Princeton, ordinarily so infused with enthusiasm and energy. Like so many others my husband Raymond Smith and I were feeling unmoored, unsure of the future (and of the worth of writing and bringing out a literary magazine at such a time); we felt helpless to make much of a difference in the world, but it occurred to us that we could—at least!—rescue an abandoned animal and bring it home with us.
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