So I found these movies for $2 each at this dollar store in the Gallery today. They look AMAZING. I can’t wait to watch them. That probably won’t happen for a while though.
I’m excited too, Arya.
I’m organizing my entire Pictures folder into a system that’s not cluttered, and I came across this photo of our kitten Arya. Our friend rescued her off the street but couldn’t keep her so we took her in. Technically she’s mine. That way I’m the one whose responsible for veterinary affairs :/
Look at her being cute and not a bitch!
Milo looking very regal for a cat that earlier today did the equivalent of someone shitting their pants.
Bootsie
I remember when we first got Bootsie. I was at the birthday party of one of my friends at the time, back in like first grade I think. On the ride home from the party I remember gaining the knowledge of us having a new kitty, named Bootsie. The name had been given to her by her last owners, because of her four white paws. I guess the name sounds strange at first, but hey, she was a cat, and I never had a problem with it.
Bootsie hated other cats. She’d scowl at them. When we got our all black kitten we named Chip, she would hold him down with her paw. Bootsie was the cat of the house, I think. The outside, like the yard and everything, was her territory. She’d go out every day and patrol, and she’d do that a few times a day, I think. She used to lay at the top of a slide we had on the swingset in the yard, and one time I saw her actually climbing up the ladder to get to it. Straight up, paw over paw. That was awesome. She and Chip would hunt sometimes, too. One time one of them brought a live bird into the house, I think. I’m pretty sure that was either Chip or Bootsie. The things were gifts. Thanks, guys.
Bootsie was affectionate. She used to really like me a lot. She’d curl up with me every night. She’d sleep in my bed, try to take my pillow, crawl underneath the sheets and then come up so that she was about to my chest before lying down. We’d snuggle up. I forget why that stopped. I think that’s when I stopped letting cats into my room.
At one point earlier this year we saw blood in Bootsie’s pee. Not pleasant. Not too long after that Bootsie started getting hungry all the time. Like, all the time. Soon she was diagnosed with diabetes, and she had to take insulin. She took the shots like it was nothing at all. I think that was because she was so old. She was like, 90 in cat years. My Dad was the one who gave her the shots. I don’t think I’d have been good at that. And she lived. She was old and had diabetes, but that was part of the age.
Even more recently, a few days ago in fact, she began throwing up a lot. Like, vomit that reeked way more than it should have, imo. My Dad took her to the vet today, where they said her kidneys were failing. They put her to sleep. I don’t wanna make other people feel sad or bad, or feel like they should feel bad, but I think Bootsie deserves remembering. She fucking rocked. Twelve years of awesomeness, and she outlived both our cat Chip and our dog Harley, after being born before both. Right now, we still have Twilight, whom we got when we still had Chip, Flurry, whom we got after we had lost Chip, and Mooch, a gray shabby homeless cat that we feed. Bootsie was the best of them. She lived a great life for any housepet, I think, and I’m glad we could help with that. She was ours. We were hers. Rest in peace, Bootsie.
