17 years ago in my closet a wonderful kitty gave birth to a litter of three kittens, and in that litter was born my childhood friend, Bootsy. The last of her line, Bootsy joins the great kitty heaven in the sky. She lived a long and healthy life, and very happy life. She was smart, social, and loved to talk to anyone who would listen to her. I have so many fond memories when I was a child with her in them. She was my best friend. Whenever I cried, she would be there to comfort me, whenever I had a fond memory I can remember her not being far.
Bootsy liked to bring "presents" to me, usually leaving them on my bed. I remember one time my mom had me clean under my bed, and along with a bowl of old holloween candy there sat a very moldy musk rat. YUCK! Along with the many presents, she liked to hunt the barn swallows, which of course didn't appeciate this too much. When ever she went outside in the summer the swallows would floke around her and take turn sweeping apon her and pecking her on the head. But the bird species got their revenge on her. When I was around 10 my parents decided to raise Turkeys. I will never forget the fist time she layed eyes on our Tom! She was never the same again. With tail puffed out and the fur on her back raised she zoomed to the shed for cover. If the turkey's happen to be roaming free that Tom never missed an opportunity to tease that poor cat.
Bootsy died of a tumor which was pressing against her heart, and grew until her poor weak heart couldn't beat anymore. At her age the vet said that it was just simply her time. She also suffored from an acute case of asthma, which steroids were not longer helping. She will be greatly missed by my parents and I, and never will be replaced.
So, take care my little Bootsy, run free in the sky above.
Bootsy liked to bring "presents" to me, usually leaving them on my bed. I remember one time my mom had me clean under my bed, and along with a bowl of old holloween candy there sat a very moldy musk rat. YUCK! Along with the many presents, she liked to hunt the barn swallows, which of course didn't appeciate this too much. When ever she went outside in the summer the swallows would floke around her and take turn sweeping apon her and pecking her on the head. But the bird species got their revenge on her. When I was around 10 my parents decided to raise Turkeys. I will never forget the fist time she layed eyes on our Tom! She was never the same again. With tail puffed out and the fur on her back raised she zoomed to the shed for cover. If the turkey's happen to be roaming free that Tom never missed an opportunity to tease that poor cat.
Bootsy died of a tumor which was pressing against her heart, and grew until her poor weak heart couldn't beat anymore. At her age the vet said that it was just simply her time. She also suffored from an acute case of asthma, which steroids were not longer helping. She will be greatly missed by my parents and I, and never will be replaced.
So, take care my little Bootsy, run free in the sky above.
