It’s been a week today since my mom’s cat died. His name was Boots, and he was a really good cat.
In his prime, Boots weighed thirty pounds. The vet never told us that Boots was a very pretty cat. In fact, he was probably one of the ugliest cats you’ve ever seen. He was a brown and gray tabby cat who had six toes and a crook in his stubby little tail. He liked people, and he always wanted to be in the same room as everyone when we had parties or family gatherings. If Boots liked you especially, he would roll over for you to scratch his belly like a dog.
When I was a freshman in high school, we found Boots on our front porch. It was October, and the weather had just started turning into the brisk coolness that signifies the changing of the seasons from summer to autumn. The leaves had just started changing and the air smelled like wood smoke.
I begged and begged my mother to let us keep Boots inside the house, but she refused. I think she was worried about how our very old, slightly blind white and gray cat (KC) would adjust to him.
After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, my mom let us bring him inside to keep warm at night, and the rest was history.
Boots has spent a good long thirteen years in the loving care of my parents and sister. He was an old cat, and it was his “time.” This doesn’t make me any less sad about his passing, but I firmly believe that Boots is in a better place now.
This time has been especially hard for my family. Even though Boots was only a cat, he was one of the best cats I’ve ever known. And after all, pets do become part of our families, whether we want to admit it or not.
Take a moment and scratch your furry friends behind their ears in honor of Boots tonight!