As Jerylin would say…needs more Bill pictures.
So here he is…
being a cat in rabbit’s fur…
lodged between the sofa and my laptop.
There are times when I wonder whether I spend enough time with Bill. Those who have met him wonder how in the world he could have began as a feral cat, captured from the Berkeley Marina. He comes downstairs when he hears me open the door, waits outside the door when I’m in the bathroom, rolls around on his back when I’m in the kitchen, and comes to me when I ring my bracelet (the only real benefit to having stupid bells melded to my bracelet). How many cats do you know would come to there masters when called?
But my old-man-cat is…being an old-man. He coughs and hacks at times, sometimes seemingly unprovoked. He’s not as built as he used to be; his skin is much looser around his body. He’s got pretty bad aim. He’s picky with his food, preferring the younger cat’s food. But he stays with me more often, still runs up and down stairs just fine. He’s a good, calm cat…who wants everyone’s attention and love and affection.
