The long answer:
The winter of 1997-98 in Philadelphia was mostly mild. Except for a couple of fiercely cold, wet days, Philadelphia was spared a terrible winter. However, the night of December 29 was one of those brutal nights. It was snowing; largely splashy slushy flakes were pelting the ground. There was very little sun early in the day and it was bitter cold. The rain had slowly evolved into this nasty slush and the wind made you feel like your skin was being stripped off.
But it was Saturday night, and David and I had committed ourselves to volunteering for setting up a swing dance. We were feeling festive and enthusiatic in spite of the weather. We went over to the Commodore Barry Club to help hang decorations and set up tables for the dance, planning to return home for dinner, clean clothes and dancing shoes. After the big clock was hung up on the wall, balloons were fully inflated, tacky musical clefs and notes hung upon the walls, David and I rushed home.
When we pulled into the parking lot outside our building, the only thoughts on our minds were to hurry up and get back to the dance hall so we could swing the night away. We had taken a class called "Jitterbug for Social Occasions" the year before, and darn it, there just weren't that many social occasions, so we were excited for this one.
So when we stepped out of the car, and heard pathetic little mewling noises coming from under one of the cars, we were not exactly immediately convinced to play cat saviors. But then I saw where the mewling was coming from exactly. It was not just one of the many strays we see out there in the lot, but a little tiny kitten. He was cold. He was scared. He was orange.
Something went "click" in both of our heads. We knew we had to save that kitten. We proceeded to spend the next 3 hours coaxing the kitten, chasing the kitten, tempting the kitten and finally after feeding him, capturing him and placing him in a cardboard box, we brought him up to the warmth of our apartment. Where he ate and ate and drank milk and was a very grateful little kitten. We had him purring in no time.
It was not long before we knew we wanted to keep this kitten. What to name him? What to name him? We wondered. The name was simply obvious after a very short while.
At 10 o'clock, we realized we had missed the dance. We had frozen out in the wet snow, we had gotten a bit scratched up by our new kitty. But we were still very happy. Because we had "Jitterbug."