I guess the last one to tell you
about is Boo. Bug-a-Boo is his full name, for the huge eyes he had when he
was a baby. He was brought to our veterinary friend in CA when he was only a
few weeks old. She didn't think he was going to make it. I was on a trip out
there in the late summer of 2006 and this black rat sized little thing was
running around. I was never a cat person, but always said if I was ever to
have one, it would have to be a black cat. She is a family friend, already
had some 15 cats, and sometime later, we devised a plan that I would pay for
her to fly out on New Year's Eve day, without anyone knowing and bring us
Boo. Deb tends to sleep like a rock, it was the weekend, I snuck out of the
house, picked her up sometime in the predawn hours of the day, and we were
safely back in the house before anyone awoke. Doc was lying on the family
room couch when Britt woke up, looked down from the second floor and saw her
there and questioned, and then all of a sudden, this black kitten raced
across the room. There was lots of noise and commotion after that.
Boo always wanted to play. It didn't matter if it was paper, a box, his Tony
the Tiger stuffed animal, ball across the floor, whatever. He didn't know an
enemy or fear of any other pet. One of our friends had this 80 lb black lab
that they would bring over, and Boo would chase and be chased by this huge
dog through the house. Although he thought and would act like the jungle,
panther cat out in the yard, and would chase any butterfly, fly, or any
other bugs that would distract him, I don't think he ever caught anything.
He just wanted to play and never really understood why other things
wouldn't, including Stormy. The lizards you've seen in the photos... he
would paw gently at them to see if he could get them to move or react. I
have a baby snapping turtle, and Boo would just roll over in front of him,
pawing at him, just trying to get him to move.
As I wrote in Stormy's story, Boo knew how to sit, lie down, rollover, and
come (generally) when called. We teased that he was more dog than cat. I
think I said it previously, but before he got sick, he was not a lap cat. He
wanted attention though, and would bump into your leg when you were sitting
in a chair. But pick him up, and he would jump down. He didn't like to be
"placed" anywhere. However, if you put your finger on the ground and told
him to lie down, he would plop himself over and loved having his ears and
scruff rubbed roughly. In fact, you could pick him up by the scruff, even to
his last days, and he would just hang there happy as anything. The top of
his head was especially sensitive. Loved having a wire brush across it and
he would even purposely bump his head on like the bottom of a chair and his
front paw would spasm, and he'd almost fall over.
He was a creature of habit. If I wasn't up by 5:30 to feed him, I was being
awaken, whether there was still food in the bowls or not. He would sleep
curled up next to me in the winter time, and join me in the bathroom while I
was getting ready for work - I think to hurry me along to get his food. He
would come running to meet you at the door.
He is missed.