Butch
came into my life 16 years ago. He began hanging around my apartment
complex one day, and he was gorgeous—a brown tabby with
purebred American Shorthair circular markings. But it was his
eyes-big, bright green eyes-that looked right into my soul. I
knew he was checking me out for potential ownership; but I wasn't
allowed to have a pet, so I resisted (as best I could).
One night, I asked him if he'd like to come in for the evening.
I put down a towel for him to sleep on at the end of my bed.
The next morning, he was still there· that was 16 years
ago.
He has taught me so much about being a good owner. He taught me that it's better to keep your cat inside—he had to get hit by a car and mauled by a dog first, but I eventually learned. He taught me that I had enough love to share, and he was a gracious roommate when Oreo came into our lives. When I rescued Stinky Marie from the gutter and brought her home to live with us, he taught her things-like how to use the litter box and drink out of the toilet. Unfortunately, she kept falling into the toilet until she got bigger.
He doesn't wrestle with Stinky much these days (his arthritis pains him), but he still begs for cheese puffs with his paw poised ever-so-politely in the air, head cocked to one side. And Oreo stopped beating him up when he came home from the vet after being diagnosed with renal failure.
Butch is now 19 years old. I cannot believe
my good luck at his having picked me. I just wanted to honor
him by telling others how blessed I am.
