The Cats


The Original B.C.

When I was working at my first job and WKNT AM/FM in Kent, Ohio, Bob Long, the station’s News Director insisted that I needed a pet and he proceeded to give me a cute kitten.  We decided to have a contest on-air to name Bryce’s cat.  People sent in postcards and letters with their suggestions (there was no Internet or fax machines back then).  It was determined by the audience that the winning name was “Chairman Meow” (because Chairman Mao of China was in the news so much at the time).  Off the air I decided that that wasn’t a great name so we went with B.C., standing for Bryce’s Cat.  It seemed to work and ever since 1976, I’ve had a cat named BC…there have been 3 of them.  BC #1 was the best, she thought she was a dog…played fetch, chased balls, and loved everyone…even complete strangers.  BC #1 died of old age at 16. 

BC #2 was a shelter cat, and was a real active cat…loved to play, but grew up only knowing me.  She was scared to death of anyone else and would hide for hours at the sound of the doorbell. I had a roomate that didn’t believe that cat actually existed because in the 9 months he lived there, BC would have nothing to do with him.  BC #2 died at the age of 19. 

Putting both BC’s down was a very traumatic experience for me.  But the house was too quiet without someone scampering around, so less than a month later I hit the Wake SPCA and ran across a pair of brothers, that no one would take because one of them only had 3 legs.  I immediately fell in love with both of them and took them home on-the-spot.  The 3-legged guy was the next “BC” and we named his bother “TC” in honor of a close friend named Taner.  The two of them were inseparable…fighting one minute, cleaning each other the next.  It was quite the circus around here.  Sadly, after about 9 months, BC3 came down with some disease that no one could seem to figure out.  Lots of expensive tests and medication later BC curled up on my chest one last time, licked my nose (his daily tradition), jumped off the bed and hid in the closet…a cat’s way of saying “it’s time”.  So sadly I took him to the vet and after many tears, BC’s pain was over.  Even the vet was in tears…she too had fallen in love with this little guy.  BC was a real fighter and never let his disability stand in his way.  He played and lived life just like his four-legged brother.

TC was lost without his buddy, so I went back to the SPCA and found another cat about the same age as TC in hopes that they would get along.  His name was Colby…and orange Tabby.  It took about 3 months of getting used to each other, but now TC & Colby pal around like long last buds.

So that is the tale of the many BC’s.  Will there be a BC 4?  We’ll see…put probably so…eventually.  Here are some pictures of my “kids” over the years.