It always amazes me how attached we get to animals…while we use them mostly for food, we still end up becoming extraordinarily attached when it comes to our pets. And early this morning we lost our little buddy. His name was J.B., which contrary to those who believe it had something to do with Jim Beam, was short for “Jungle Beast,” front part “Fierce.” He received that name, if I remember correctly, the first time he ran in terror from a spider in the bathroom.

Little sucker was, at least seemingly, fine until last Monday. While he did have a bout of something last month that resolved quickly, he’d been “normal” (assuming that word can ever be used about a cat) until then. Granted, he didn’t chase Martians as often as he used to, but then he was getting up there, and like me not quite as active as he was a decade ago. More, including the obligatory photos, after the jump.
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