There is nothing wrong with a new friend.
Sweetie may open a trapdoor in your heart that you always thought was a floor. Who knew there was a whole basement of love down there?
Jean Claude may show you his ability to fit the entirety of France inside a single one of his cheeks.
Lita may cause you to erupt, “wait, you too? I thought I was the only one who…” (I will leave the details between the two of you.)
But there is nothing quite like an old gem.
Thus begins a shameless Juel Appreciation Post.
If you are cruising our Adoptable Cats pages for the newest models, you will miss the vintage treasures out past page six. Their chrome may not catch the light like it used to. There may be a patina on their paint job. They do not have touch screens or cruise control. We shall not even speak of their “trade-in value.”
To which Juel says, “jolly good. When is the classic car show?”
Juel is no jalopy and nobody’s fool. Were he a human, he would be a seventh grade boy. As it is, he is pretty close to a seventh grade boy.
Juel is the jingle in the bell and the wiggle in the wand toy.
Juel laughs at the litter box, because it is funny and optional.
Juel’s favorite music is every song where you have absolutely no idea what Bob Dylan is saying, only that he’s having a great time. Juel is having a great time. Juel has no desire to have any idea what is going on at any time.
Juel has no idea that he’s currently fighting FIP. Juel has the basic idea that we love him enough to extinguish everything scary. He is correct. This frees him up for important matters.
If he could, Juel would hide vegan frankfurters on Jonathan’s office chair, because they are funny and smell like flatulence and clearly have no other use.
If he could, Juel would rename all the cats in Suite E, because his names are superior.
Juel calls Magda “Partytime Beans.” Juel calls Olivia, Winona, and Ella “Lurlene, Perlene, and Earlene.” Juel calls Shaggy “Chancellor Galileo IV,” because Shaggy has double doctorates from the University of Tübingen. (That is a fact. I do not joke about such matters.)
Juel calls all the cats “slappin’ rad.” Juel is sloppy and slaphappy when it comes to the word “friend.” Juel says “friend” is the biggest noun in the world, bigger even than Napoleon‘s head.
Juel is electrified by affection, existence, salmon, and the sound of his own giggle.
By eight thirty in the morning, Juel’s guardian angel needs a back rub and an espresso.
But Juel is a gem of many facets.
His eyes are so kind, he was the first choice to play Mister Rogers. (The movie-makers glumly settled for Tom Hanks.) If you tell him about the monsters under your bed, he will stay beside you until you are not scared anymore. If you tell him that you are running out of time, he will run figure eights around your ankles until you see infinity again.
If he could, Juel would stride into the face of danger and convince Godzilla, Cthulhu, or your congressperson that good is more fun than evil. He would create a PowerPoint featuring Tom Hanks, Bob Dylan, and Partytime Beans.
If he could, Juel would get it into your head that you are slappin’ rad, and this is a designation that cannot be lost.
If he could, he would make the whole world hold hands and sing about dairy, because not one single war has been documented under those conditions. It is worth a try.
If he could, he would conduct CPR on your expectations when you look in the mirror and wonder if you are still adoptable.
He could, and he can, and he will, if you will let him call you “friend.”
Actually, that’s outside your control. Juel already calls you “friend.” Also “slappin’ rad.” Also some name known only to Juel. (I can neither confirm nor deny that Jonathan is “Juel II.”)
Juel is presently writing a You Appreciation Post. Juel does not expect to complete this masterpiece until the end of the aeon. Juel is not sure what an aeon is, but he will ask Bob Dylan.
More than that, Juel calls you “new.” It does not matter if you have known Juel since he debuted on Page One of the Adoptable Cats Pages. Juel knows that there is always more to know, especially when it comes to friends.
And at Tabby’s Place, Juel will get more time, even as he fights a foe that was once always fatal. FIP made a big mistake when it picked on our best friend. Juel is part of the way through state-of-the-art treatment as you read these words, and the state of the Juel is “shining.”
Juel is not afraid.
Juel hopes you’ll sit with him on the first day of seventh grade.
Juel is elated that every day is the first day of seventh grade.
There is everything right about our precious Juel.