Boots the cat - his story
May. 1st, 2005 01:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sugarplumkittyBoots was a kitten that belonged to the little boy next door to my parents. He was all black with just a little white. His muzzle was white, he had a thin white stripe down his chest and belly, and he had four white paws. The boy's mother was very allergic to cats, so in an attempt to make it work, she'd shower with him every morning to keep the dander to a minimum. Boots liked showers. He was used to them. Sadly, they discovered the little boy was even more allergic to cats than his mother was. The poor little kitten was banished outdoors. He quickly found his way over to my parents' house, shown the way through the pet door and up to my father's lap by my parents' orange tabby female, Babe. Dad had a beard back then. Boots nuzzled it looking for nipples! Babe was a very special cat with a big heart. She brought home a lot of needy cats in her time.
When the people moved away a few months later, they brought over all the things they'd had for Boots and officially gave him to my parents. He had pretty much moved in by then, only going home for meals. In my parents' back yard is a pool with an attached spa. Boots loved it when my parents swam or went into the spa after dark. He got so excited that he'd run laps around the yard barking like a dog. My dad once told me Boots must have picked up that sound from a small dog that once lived behind them. It was odd to hear him do it. Once when he was still a kitten, my parents were in the spa with the jets on and he jumped or fell in. He quickly disappeared under the turbulent water. They both scooped the water with their hands right away and were able to grab him. He shook off and started running around the pool again. He was more careful near the edge after that.
Boots was small cat, petite but strong. He was friendly to most visiting cats but there was one or two he fought with on occasion. One of them really beat him up. He had to have surgery to deal with abscesses on his head, back and the base of his tail. Something was wrong. The skin didn't heal, it started dying. The vet finally figured out that he had some kind of bacterial infection that was causing his skin to die and they got him onto the correct antibiotic to kill it. By then, poor Boots had three large open wounds. My parents wondered if they should put him down, just to be kind. But somehow he managed to heal. After that he had a jagged bald spot on top of his head where the scar tissue didn't have fur. His body fur hid the one on his back and the one at the base of his tail. He loved it when people scratched his head scar.
After Babe died, he was an only cat for a short time until my sister found a declawed starving cat digging through her garbage. Kit came into the house and claimed my dad. She tried to chase Boots off. He wouldn't go. They got into little fights all the time. Mostly she'd fight and Boots would ignore her whenever possible. He figured out she didn't have front claws. He'd fight back if she nipped or tackled him and used her back claws on him. Finally, he started cuddling with my mom most of the time. He'd snuggle in between her legs on her recliner. When bedtime came, he figured out that if he hid under the bedspread, Kit wouldn't see him and so she'd let him sleep on the bed. That became a habit. He'd sleep all day under the bedspread just to have a nice peaceful sleep. He figured out how to tunnel under it all by himself.
In the last few years, the two became friends. They'd sleep in the same patch of sunlight in the family room every morning. They'd chase each other and wrestle in fun. After my dad died, Kit realized if she wanted love, she had to share my mom with Boots. Boots had first claim on Mom, so Kit wasn't bossy about it for the first time in her life. They shared her.
I don't know much more about Boots. He was a private cat who didn't like company. He didn't even let me pet him when he was young. It took him years to get to know me well enough to be happy to see me.
18 years is a good long life for a cat. Good old Boots, the one and only barking cat.
Rest in peace, little guy.
When the people moved away a few months later, they brought over all the things they'd had for Boots and officially gave him to my parents. He had pretty much moved in by then, only going home for meals. In my parents' back yard is a pool with an attached spa. Boots loved it when my parents swam or went into the spa after dark. He got so excited that he'd run laps around the yard barking like a dog. My dad once told me Boots must have picked up that sound from a small dog that once lived behind them. It was odd to hear him do it. Once when he was still a kitten, my parents were in the spa with the jets on and he jumped or fell in. He quickly disappeared under the turbulent water. They both scooped the water with their hands right away and were able to grab him. He shook off and started running around the pool again. He was more careful near the edge after that.
Boots was small cat, petite but strong. He was friendly to most visiting cats but there was one or two he fought with on occasion. One of them really beat him up. He had to have surgery to deal with abscesses on his head, back and the base of his tail. Something was wrong. The skin didn't heal, it started dying. The vet finally figured out that he had some kind of bacterial infection that was causing his skin to die and they got him onto the correct antibiotic to kill it. By then, poor Boots had three large open wounds. My parents wondered if they should put him down, just to be kind. But somehow he managed to heal. After that he had a jagged bald spot on top of his head where the scar tissue didn't have fur. His body fur hid the one on his back and the one at the base of his tail. He loved it when people scratched his head scar.
After Babe died, he was an only cat for a short time until my sister found a declawed starving cat digging through her garbage. Kit came into the house and claimed my dad. She tried to chase Boots off. He wouldn't go. They got into little fights all the time. Mostly she'd fight and Boots would ignore her whenever possible. He figured out she didn't have front claws. He'd fight back if she nipped or tackled him and used her back claws on him. Finally, he started cuddling with my mom most of the time. He'd snuggle in between her legs on her recliner. When bedtime came, he figured out that if he hid under the bedspread, Kit wouldn't see him and so she'd let him sleep on the bed. That became a habit. He'd sleep all day under the bedspread just to have a nice peaceful sleep. He figured out how to tunnel under it all by himself.
In the last few years, the two became friends. They'd sleep in the same patch of sunlight in the family room every morning. They'd chase each other and wrestle in fun. After my dad died, Kit realized if she wanted love, she had to share my mom with Boots. Boots had first claim on Mom, so Kit wasn't bossy about it for the first time in her life. They shared her.
I don't know much more about Boots. He was a private cat who didn't like company. He didn't even let me pet him when he was young. It took him years to get to know me well enough to be happy to see me.
18 years is a good long life for a cat. Good old Boots, the one and only barking cat.
Rest in peace, little guy.
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no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:06 am (UTC)I can't believe he actually barked like a dog. That must've been so crazy.
Does Kit still live? If so, your mom can have a good support on her.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:16 am (UTC)Yes, Mom still has Kit. She's an old cat too. I hope she lasts a while longer.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:30 am (UTC)God always sends her kitties. The last time she was down to one cat, she found a tiny orange kitten being attacked by a blue jay on her front porch as she was taking poor old Patches to the vet for treatment. That tiny kitten was originally named "no more" because they had said "no more cats" and later that kitten became "Babe."
Don't worry about that! Mom will always have a cat around.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:40 am (UTC)God always sends her kitties.
Now, that's exaclty the house we're having too. Somehow all doomed-to-starve-kittens end up in our house.
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Date: 2005-05-01 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 10:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 07:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 03:55 pm (UTC)Godspeed, Boots!
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Date: 2005-05-01 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 09:17 pm (UTC)I will miss him when I visit.
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Date: 2005-05-01 09:54 pm (UTC)Boots had a good life. Be happy your family gave him the good long years he did have. A lot of kitties aren't so lucky.
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Date: 2005-05-02 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-04 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-04 03:07 am (UTC)