I got Friskie trick or treating when I was a 6th grader.

I grew up in a little town of 1500 people in eastern South Dakota. Anyway, I got the cat from my Grandmother’s next door neighbor. It was a bitter cold night. My Dad said the cat could stay “one night” in the garage. Well the one night turned into nearly 16 years. Then Friskie got cancer. My Mother was not a crier at all. She never cried. But when the vet had to put Friskie to sleep my Mom cried as she held her. I’ve had many pets since then as she died in 1986 or so but I still think of Friskie once in awhile

Carol from South Dakota