Deanna Durbin would always look back to that strange, almost unbelievable, that eventful February the twenty-second, Washington’s Birthday, and say, It never would have happened if it hadn’t been for Buzzy Blue’s cold! Buzzy Blue was Deanna’s cat . He was not only beautiful, he was magnificent, a lavender blue Persian, with wide-set eyes and long, fine, even hair. He had a mew for every occasion, and Deanna understood everyone. Besides, he had ever so many little fascinating ways. He loved to sit beside her at her dressing table. Really, he would stand, with his forepaws on the glass top, and gaze with pride and pleasure at the reflection of Deanna and himself. No one could question his good taste. His lovely, blue-eyed mistress and he made a charming picture.