A few years ago, when I was in intermediate school, it was the weekend before Halloween and I discovered my cat was killed. We never found out what killed Whiskers, the cat, but all I remember is that it was a very devastating day for me. Whiskers was the very first cat of my own. Sure, we had cats before him but they weren’t “mine” they were my mom’s or dad’s. He was a very friendly cat who was extremely soft and cuddly, and accepted everyone. As tragic as the experience was, I could not continue to live without a cat in the house. We still had a dog, but she was aging, and lets say she was not very entertaining. Also, I had never lived a single day in my life without a cat present and it just didn’t feel right. For almost a year we searched and searched for a cat that we liked, but I refused to get any cat that was the same color Whiskers was- orange and white. We looked around, but did not find any that felt right, and it wasn’t until my best friend called to tell us that her neighbor recently got a new litter of kittens that we had luck.

My dad was out of town the week I picked Boots out. Boots was a month old tuxedo cat that I fell in love with. My mom doesn’t like to admit this, but she also fell in love with a dwarf cat in the same litter as Boots and I tried so hard to convince her to get him as well- but it didn’t work. We did not get Boots right a way, because we first wanted to make sure he would be what we wanted, and my mom wanted to wait until my dad got home. However, we only waited one extra day before I couldn’t hold my excitement any longer and my mom and I drove back to bring Boots home. When my dad got home, although he knew we had gotten a cat, he still seemed surprised.

Through the first days, I soon found out how rambunctious Boots actually was. He had a stuffed rabbit that he attacked every day and then gave it a bath after he attacked it, he could jump five feet in the air, and when he learned how to open doors, we could no longer keep him in the laundry room which was where he used to sleep. He and I also got into fights often because he hated to be held and did not understand why I kept trying to cuddle him. He also will start to bite after a minute of being petted, unless of course you pet him with your feet, then he doesn’t mind. Despite all his faults he is my cat and I make sure he is aware of that. I have decided that he may act tough but deep inside he is soft hearted. When I return home after any trip he never leaves me alone.


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