Good Night, Boots

I’m not sure when those photos were taken. or who took them. My folks and I were living at 818 10th Street South in Moorhead, Minnesota, at the time; which puts the date at around 1970.

Could have been earlier, or later, since that’s the house I grew up in. Maybe mid-to-late 1960s to early 1970s.

The point is that those cats were very much part of my life while growing up.

Boots was the older of those two. My folks picked him from a litter of kittens because, they said, he was the most lively of the bunch. They asked my input for his name, but may have suggested a focus on his four white “boots”.

At any rate, Boots grew into a somewhat oversize cat. We suspected he might have a bit of Maine Coon in his ancestry.

Boots was big, but not supersized, and had that breed’s lush coat. I’ve read that Maine Coons are “…sweet-tempered, gentle and friendly….” That fits him, sort of: although I’d say “regal” is closer to the mark than “friendly”.

That said, my guess is that Boots was a Maine Coon the way I’m a Scotsman: It’s in the gene pool, along with a good many other ancestries.

Evening Routines

Boots, and later Star, had the run of the house during the day. But when bedtime rolled around, they went into the basement.

As a child, I was usually in bed by that time. Dad, holding Boots, would stop by the door of my room to say goodnight. Then he’d have Boots ‘say goodnight’ too, by waving his left front paw at me.

As I said, Boots was a “regal” cat. But he was also — I’ll call it patient about human quirks. It helped that we had the sense, when we held him, to give his back feet a firm platform with one hand while supporting his chest or front legs with the other.

So when Dad and Boots looked in on me at bedtime, Dad’s right hand was under his back feet, while his left hand gently pushed Boots’ elbow, making him ‘wave’ at me.

Boots didn’t seem to mind, I was well aware of the puppetry involved, and it’s among the very good memories of my childhood.

That bedtime routine had ended by the time we moved to 1010, but Boots was still with us. He and Star shared 1010 with us for some years. I’d occasionally take one or the other of the cats for a walk.

Walks with Boots weren’t so much walks as stands.

A Favorite Spot

Boots had a favorite spot in the back yard, partway along the hedge on the south side, between two bushes. He’d sit there, posed like a sphinx, looking out through the fence.

I’d have preferred a leisurely stroll, but Boots was a cat: and was clearly having a good time, gazing off through the neighboring yards.

Time passed.

Boots grew older, but still liked his spot in the hedge — and his time in the back porch. Finally, one weekend afternoon, we noticed that he’d been resting there, on his right side, for a very long time. Our old cat had finally died.

We buried him in the back yard, in his favorite spot, with his nose to the south.

Remembering

More time passed.

I moved, temporarily as it turned out, to California. My folks were still at 1010 when my wife and I married, back here in Minnesota. My wife and I moved a few times, finally settling in her home town, my folks moved to the family homestead in North Dakota, where Mom grew up.

I checked 1010 South 16th Street in Moorhead with Google Maps recently. The house is still there, and so is a fence along the property’s south side. But the hedge is gone. After all these decades, that’s no surprise.

I’ll wrap this up with something from a happy childhood memory: Good night, Boots.

More; mostly about animals, houses, and being human:

• “A Cat, a Dog, and a Reflective Chain-Link Fence” (April 5, 2025)
  • The Importance of Acting Like Humans
• “A Short Look at a Small Dog, and Another Week in Minnesota” (January 11, 2025)
  • Another Happy Dog
• “A Dog Named Ulysses” (January 4, 2025)
  • A Happy Dog
• “A Change of Pace: Family Stories” (November 23, 2024)
  • Getting Started: Cats, Homes, and an Incendiary Stove
• “Animals, Consciousness, and Conscience” (June 29, 2024)
  • — With All the Responsibilities That Come With Our Nature