Boots is the one and only dog that I ever got for our children. They had many other dogs but not that I picked out. Boots was adopted at the Sacramento Animal Shelter. This was back in 1961, and I think we paid less than five dollars for her. This included some shots, license, and a couple of cans of dog food. She was one of about six in a litter and not the biggest. Some might say she wasn’t even the pick of the litter but if they did say that, they couldn’t recognize the personality this dog possessed.
Boots didn’t weigh over twelve pounds soaking wet and half that weight was in her ears. She was a short hair mutt, partly Terrier, partly Poodle and mainly Jackass as represented by the size and shape of her ears. She fit right into our lifestyle. She was very protective and a constant companion of her two masters, our young sons Mitchell and Matthew. They were four and two years old respectively and if you saw her, you saw the boy’s as she was always with them.
Bootsie traveled with us on all our vacations. She was the one that taught the boys how to get over our backyard fence and discover the big world beyond our properties borders. She was also, the one that would tell us when they were in trouble. Like the time they had gone down in the storm drainage ditches to catch snakes; and the water had increased in volume to the degree they were trapped in an area that was blocking their escape. Bootsie came home all excited and began to bark. When we checked to see why she was barking, we couldn’t see the boy’s and knew something was wrong. So we followed her back to the location that had the boy’s trapped. When we got them out of their self imposed prison, she started barking at them like she was really giving a good butt chewing.
She was also with them on one occasion when they had wandered onto a newly constructed freeway adjacent to our housing tract. It was not open to the public; but it was still a dangerous place for two little boy’s to play. A delivery man in a Wonder Bread Truck spied them and stopped to load them into his truck. He then realized, he had no idea where they belonged, or what to do with them. His next delivery was to our local market. And the manager of the market knew the boy’s and better yet, knew their parents and where they lived. When Bob Machado the manager brought the boy’s home, Janey almost had a heart attack as she didn’t realize they were missing.
One other situation that involved Boots was the time a neighbor had called animal control. The postman noticed the dogcatcher lurking around the turn of the road beyond our house. He inquired as to what he was doing? The man replied, that he was waiting for our dog to leave the property. He said being unleashed and off our property was against the law and he would have to capture Boots. The postman told him to get a life and leave this dog alone, as he would never leave with out the boy’s. I can’t remember how many days that guy laid in wait for Boots to leave but it never happened. The postman had warned us of his plan, so we were vigilante to keep our brood close to home. Still it was fun to watch him get excited when the boy’s would play in our front yard. He was sure they would leave and give him the opportunity to capture our dog. We lived on a large corner lot that was ideal for kids to play. I had built a mini-bike for the boy’s and they would crank it to life and ride it all around our front yard purposely edging onto the sidewalk at times to whet this guy’s appetite; knowing that boots would chase them but to no avail as they would return immediately to their yard. After a few days the dog catcher gave up and life returned to normal.
Boots was not the smartest dog in the world, as was revealed when we were building our home in the mountains of Grass Valley. We were located in the woods, surrounded by large Pine,Cedar,Oak and Fir trees, where many animals made their home. This was especially true concerning Squirrels. Boots would chase one of these fuzzy creatures up a tree and sit there all day waiting for it to come down. Poor thing didn’t realize, they just jumped from tree to tree and were long gone while she sat there getting a stiff neck and hungry.
Boots was our good and faithful friend for eighteen years and old father time started catching up with her. She was almost deaf, nearly blind, stiff with arthritis and cranky. She had lived in the same neighborhood all her life, having the run of the place like a queen. Then there came the time we bought a new home on the other side of Sacramento. This new home was in a busy location and wasn’t fenced, so we couldn’t bring Boots here to live. I knew she would get hit by a passing car and killed. I couldn’t stand for her to die this way, so we kept our other home for Boots. She was used to this old location, so I would go by after work and leave food and water and let her out of the yard for a walk through the neighborhood.
This went on for a few months and her health declined, so I told Janey it was best to get her put to sleep as her quality of life was disappearing. Janey took her to the vet with this in mind; but after she arrived, she changed her mind and instructed them to give her some vitamin shots and returned her to her four bedroom, two bath home with an enclosed patio and swimming pool. People thought we were crazy to keep this home off the market just to house our family pet. They didn’t know how we felt about this member of our family. As Boots health further declined it was evident the proper thing was to have her put to sleep and that became my task. I cried like a baby when this task was fulfilled but it was the kind thing to do. Our children have had lots of dogs that have brought lots of joy but there will never be another dog like Boots.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It seems a year or two at most that Boots had been around, But eighteen have passed since first I spied her at the Sacramento pound.
She stood in dogdom's big house, all ears and tongue and smile, The model of a friendly dog, without a trace of guile.
"Please, that one in the second cage, with the Jackass Terrier look!" The attendant riffled pages, and he found her in his book.
"It says that she's a mix my friend and she will call your house her home, And that her name is Boots, and that she sometimes likes to roam."
"Here, girl!" I called, and here she came, and without hesitation Her tail a hairy question mark; would she improve her station ?
I hope I did, in our short time, improve her life as she has mine. I've seldom known so loyal a friend, nor dreamed of how soon it would end.
She's sure done all those doggy things that dogs are famous for. She's barked at all & sundry things, and shed hair on every floor.
She's barked at trucks with flapping tarps and kids on minibikes. and howled in unison with Tootsie to tell of their dislikes...
Of the sirens on the ambulance or wailing police cars In hot pursuit of motorists caught in covert radar’s.
Now suddenly I become aware that she's well past her prime. The years have all been stolen by the furtive thief of time.
At first it's hardly noticed, no real drama at first sight, Just a restless movement in the dark, a whimper in the night...
She thinks that I'm all knowing, she believes that I'm all wise, And she thinks that I can fix it; I can see it in her eyes.
But now it looks like it's the end, it seems no cure is known. A passing of the hands of time, on the clock of life has shone.
The computer screen is shimmering, like looking through a fog, As I write to tell the story of my lovely long-eared dog.
I lift her up into the car, her leap has long since gone, Would she be quite so happy, if she knew the road we're on?
I'm waiting for the vet to open, crying like a child. "Would you come this way to see the vet?" The lady in white smiled.
The leg is shaved and sterilized, one might well wonder why! The syringe at last is empty, and I bid my friend good-bye.
I hold her tight and talk to her, "sleep now, my dear old friend". And cradled in my arms she sleeps; and we have reached the end.
And still, down by the fence she sleeps, beneath the shady trees. Where the wild birds chatter from the branches, swaying in the breeze.
And high above her, after dark, the midnight stars burn bright, And there'll be no more pain or hurt... No whimper in the night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------