This is boots…He got the name because of his white paws.

It was one of those great spring days after a hard winter that Boots, a stray, adopted me. It wasn’t hard though. A cute little kitten drenched by a cool spring rain melted my heart. I picked up the kitten, dried it and put it down. That’s when he attacked my shoe strings and played with the fringe on the leg of my worn old jeans. He held onto my shoe with his front paws while gnawing the lace. He stayed there as I swept, and cleaned the winter out of the basement.He grew into a medium size, fuzzy indoor/outdoor cat who was dominate in controlling the rabbit and squirrel population on our half wooded lot. Mice were never a problem. He even brought us gifts of rabbits. I soon referred to him as the best dog that ever owned me.

Playful and curious he was always around me. Outside he would playfully attack my backside after I bent over to pull a weed. Inside he wanted to be a part of everything. Sometimes he would curl up on the keyboard as I was trying to type.

One of the funniest things he did was lay on top of our refrigerator and swat at hair as people walked past. He would lie onto top of the kitchen cabinets and reach down, swatting an unsuspecting guest in the head. Then pop back up and hide before they had chance to discover him.

At night as we slept he would curl up with us and sleep sometimes with is head resting on my head. I heard it said that animals have no souls and are in capable of love. Whoever said that never knew Boots. I swear he loved us as much as we loved him.

Several years after that cool spring rain where his heart and mine became one we lost him. He was hit by a car. I buried him in the woods he so loved to prowl. Even now as I type this tears swell. I miss him as if I had lost a child, or best friend.