How PJ Got Her Name

January 19, 2009 at 9:32 pm | Posted in Animals | 1 Comment


PJ Close Up , originally uploaded by MAKNJ.

This is our cat PJ, taken with my brand new Nikon D60. I could never get a decent photo of her with my point and shoot. Imagine what I can do when I learn to use the camera!


PJ was born in Jefferson, Louisiana in the fall of 1992.  We celebrate her birthday at Halloween, but I always forget it.  She is a grand damme of 16 years.  her eyes are hazy now, and she’s lost most of her teeth, but she never complains about that.  Well, at least, I think she doesn’t.  She only complains when we lock her out of the bedroom, or when her bowls are empty.  Kevin grooms her often, and she revels in it.  As a toddler, Oliver was gentle with her, so he is one of the few people she trusts (the others being me, sometimes, Kevin, and my dad, who feeds her when we go out of town).

  PJ With Oliver

When PJ was a kitten, I could not find a name that fit her.  She was a nameless one for quite some time.  Rather than just call her “Fluffy” or some other basic cat name, I wanted to give her a moniker that fit her personality.  So I waited for her to show it to me.  I was in law school at the time, living in an apartment overlooking La Freniere Park in Metairie.  it had one bedroom, one bathroom, and two closets.  What I am getting at is that it was small.  Apparently not too small for a petite kitten like this one to get lost in.  I was on my way out, and went to say goodbye to my new kitten, but she was nowhere to be found.  I looked in the bathroom, the closet, the other closet (even though I hadn’t opened the door on that one all day), the kitchen, the oven (the story behind THAT one later), the bathtub, under the bed, behind the books in the bookcase…to no avail.  I rattled a box of cat food – nothing.  I would have called her name but, well, she didn’t have one.


So I did what every normal cat lover would do in the situation:  I called my sister.  In New Jersey.  Because when you have lost a cat, talking to someone thousands of miles away who couldn’t possibly help you look for the cat, or have seen her at all, is who you need to talk to.  Well, my sister asked me “Did you look in the dresser drawers?”  Well, don’t be silly, of course of though of that.  The thing is, the drawers are not left open, so there was no way she could have crawled into a drawer and I closed it on her.  (I am OCD about things like keeping drawers closed, so I knew what I was talking about here.)  However, I had bothered my sister and wanted her to feel as if she was helping, since she did try, so I had to let here hear me open and close the dresser drawers.  I opened the top drawer…and there slept my tiny kitten, nestled in my PJs.

That’s how she got the name PJ, and see, it WAS a good idea to call my sister, because she did know what to do!


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