|B.J.'s chillin' out.|
B.J. was tired by the time he decided to move into my sister Julie's home. At the time, he was living on the streets of Cincinnati with other alley cats, fending off his territory and scraping up any leftovers he could find. Julie fed him whenever she saw B.J. in her driveway, which he always appreciated.
One day, he caught a cold, and Julie took him to the vet's office. He didn't like her as much that day, but it was a good thing they went. It turned out that he had contracted FIV from his pals, and his immune system had taken a recent hit. While B.J. dismissed this news as an annoyance, Julie insisted he come live in the safety of her warm, dry house. Always a lone traveler, he preferred the open air and sky. He had travelled all the way from the Wild West, and his early days under stars on the prairie forever remained in his blood. Still, although he was afraid he'd miss the outdoors, he couldn't pass up such a generous offer.
To his great surprise, being an indoor cat suited him just fine. Eternally grateful for his good fortune, B.J. became an increasingly happy-go-lucky cat. Named Bob, Jr., after Bob, an identical orange kitty Julie used to care for before he settled into a friend's home, B.J. shared Bob's good nature. He got along with everyone, except for Norman. (Comet and Ashes assured him that Norman rarely got along with anyone, but B.J. always tried.) He also loves watching Paul Newman and Jimmy Stewart movies, playing board games, and weight lifting. He most enjoys conversations covering the day's events. There's nothing better than a sunny spot by a window so he can keep up with his old pals, spy on new ones, and check out his neighborhood's happenings. He'll tell you all about it.
|B.J. says hello!|
(Illustration Friday--September 4, 2009: Strong)