On the evening of November 3, 1992, a skinny little black kitten showed up at our kitchen window and begged to be adopted. I was able to resist. Scott was not. When he came home from work that night, he brought the kitten in and put it in bed with me. A done deal.
It's easy to remember the date because it was election day. Bill Clinton--who had a cat that looked a lot like this kitten--was elected president that day. Boots and Socks both got new homes.
For 18 and a half years Boots guarded our home. We loved every day with her.
She was an outdoor cat for years, having no interest in coming inside. Occasionally, on especially cold nights she would sleep in Tyler's room, but it wasn't until one night when I made her stay in the bathroom with a litter box--and use the litter box--that she was trusted in the house much.
A little wisp of a cat, with fur as soft as a rabbit, Boots ran the place. She would slowly walk into the dog run, and Max and Ginger would stand and watch her eat some of their dog food. We learned a lot about an alpha presence from that little thing.
When new houses were being built in the field behind our house, Boots would bring home the biggest, gnarliest rats and lay them at the door for us. We felt protected and provided for.
The kids always were a bit wary of her friskiness. She loved to be petted, but she used her claws and teeth to control things (in a loving way, of course).
One bittersweet memory I have of Boots is of that awful New Year's Eve when Tyler (age 18? 19?) walked home from SLC. He arrived about three in the morning, unwilling to talk about it. He must have been chilled to the bone because he went out and sat in the hot tub. I remember walking into the dark kitchen, looking out, and seeing in the moonlight that Boots was up on the edge of the hot tub, rubbing along Tyler's head. I felt such gratitude for that cat, for loving him, and offering him the comfort that he would accept.
As she aged, she spent one winter in the upstairs bathroom. Some visitors surely thought it curious to have a cat with them in the bathroom, but I think we all enjoyed the company.
For the last couple of years, she mostly stayed in the laundry. She occasionally enjoyed sunning on a warm day, but seemed happiest in the peace and quiet of her room downstairs.
Every one of us knows the sweet loving comfort of a cat coming and lying by us (or usually on us) when we are sick--or just stationary. We have had so many loving cats. How lucky we've been. Boots was the last of the old guard.
She is buried up at the base of the ornamental cherry tree, one of Tyler's favorite places. She was a great girl and is greatly missed.
I know, I know, another blog post ending with Scott sitting in front of the fire. But this actually was a pretty cool fire. Scott's idea, Halloween night, a big fire on the driveway and corn dogs and apple juice for the trick or treaters. We sat out there for about three hours and had a great time.
