A little about me...
Boots. My name is Boots. I was born in the back alley outside of a bar in southeast Asia under a flashing neon light and a sign that said “Sailors and dogs keep out.” My mother was Siamese, my “father” Persian. I think I know why I look like this but that’s another story for another day. I had seven siblings and like me, they scattered like tumbleweed – the last I heard of Fluffy she was a mercenary in the Middle East and Tuffy was operating a men’s wear store in Paris. The others, well I just don’t know.
I decided, after begging for scraps outside of gin joints and opium dens for too long, that it was time to hit the road. So I hopped on a tramp steamer outside of Bangkok and after stops in Kuala Lumpur, Olongapo, Singapore, Hagåtña, and Honolulu I found myself in Long Beach, tied up along the starboard side of The Queen Mary.
Making like a two legged, I took a quick tour of the city and decided it wasn’t for me. So I befriended a bottle blonde one-eyed, peg legged wanderer and we hopped aboard an east bound freight. After passing through such notable places as Barstow, Lamy, Trinidad (the city not the country), Dodge City, and Mendota we ended up in Chicago. It was there that I parted ways with my new-found friend. (He had been making noises about running for public office. I never did hear whether or not he was successful.) I still had an itch for traveling so I hopped aboard a train that was headed east. Turns out it was headed northeast and I had boarded Amtrak’s International bound for Toronto.
After a few hours on the International we made a brief stop shortly before beginning the final leg into Toronto. It turned out to be a very brief stop and the train left before I had time to cover my business. Having no money (where would I keep it?) and being out of kibble, I decided it was time to put down roots.
As these adventures happened before the legalization of safe catnabis (cannabis?), I must have gotten into some bad stuff because the next thing I remember was finding myself inside (Inside? What was this madness?) and being cared for by some very friendly and loving two leggeds at the Guelph Humane Society. (Although I must admit that while staying with my friends at GHS my two “boys” disappeared and I never did figure that out.) Being a bit of a pretty boy, a lot of two leggeds came by to say hi. However at some point a couple of slightly older two leggeds came in and they seemed particularly friendly.
My Mama didn’t raise no fools so I really turned on the charm – particularly to the bigger one. For reasons unknown, they decided to make me part of their family. They brought me home and my new two legged Mom spent two full days helping me get used to my new home. (At this point I decided I liked her a lot more than the big one.) So now I spend most of my time snoozing in various spots throughout my house, playing hide and seek with Mom, getting carried around the house in my big blue IKEA bag (which I also use as a hideout) and helping Mom conduct on-line Pilates training. Dad, well I let him clean my litter box, feed me and I usually tolerate his loving for a few minutes – but when Mom comes in the room, or even walks nearby – it’s “Dad who?”
I was adopted from GHS!