Boo: The Unexpected Emotional Support Cat

Not Boo but pretty close to what I remember

Life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it. During one of the most challenging periods of my life, while staying with my dad and striving to overcome addiction, I found myself yearning for a pet duck. Despite not being a bird enthusiast, I felt an inexplicable connection to the idea. Unfortunately, our living situation wasn't suitable for a duck. Little did I know, my dad's alternative gift would change my life in ways I couldn't imagine—a solid white kitten named Boo.

In our rented trailer on Dauphin Island Parkway in Mobile, Alabama, I now had a little ghost kitty with the brightest blue eyes. He was adorable, and being solid white, I named him Boo. I took care of his litter box daily, brushed him, and essentially did everything I would normally do with a dog. Somehow, Boo turned out to be more dog-like, exhibiting very few feline traits. Sometimes, while I was reading in the bathtub, Boo would jump in the water with me, as if he wanted to relax and enjoy the warm water too. He slept next to my pillow every night, often touching my face with a paw or his tail. It felt like he knew I needed companionship; he was doing what his instincts told him to, keeping me in check and reminding me that he was there. Boo became my emotional support kitty, even though that concept wasn't widely recognized back then.

When the landlord, a portly redneck woman, discovered we had a cat in the trailer, she said we broke the lease and needed to move out. Getting rid of Boo wasn't an option for my emotional state, so we moved back to Florida and lived in a rented doublewide trailer with a fireplace. Boo enjoyed the cool breeze that blew through the fireplace and spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get into it. I was always afraid he would get in, and attempt to climb up the pipe and get stuck.

Boo stayed by my side, especially during the nights when my urges to drink or use substances were the strongest. Each morning, he would wander in and out of the little pet door on one of the two back doors in the trailer, choosing to do his business outside, which saved us a lot on litter. Eventually, we stopped buying litter altogether because he preferred going outside—yet another trait that made him seem more like a dog than a cat.

I can't remember which hurricane it was, but we rode it out in my mom's apartment in Pensacola with my dad's golden retriever, Pat, my sister Becki, my brother-in-law Andy, and their orange cat, Peanut. Boo got along well with cantakerous Peanut. When my dad, Boo, and I returned to find our trailer park flooded with about two feet of water, my dad drove his pickup truck through the water to reach the front stairs of our trailer. Boo wasn't interested in going inside; when we opened the door of the truck, he jumped into the water and started swimming, exploring his surroundings. I knew he would come back home safely.

As I prepared to leave Florida for my next adventure, I was looking for accommodations that would allow me to bring Boo along. He wasn't just my pet; he was my sober buddy and my conscience when it came to staying clean. Tragically, one afternoon, my brother-in-law brought devastating news: Boo had been hit and killed by a neighbor speeding through the trailer park in the type of truck men drive to compensate for their manhood. The neighbor claimed Boo was already dead or asleep in the driveway, but I knew that wasn't true, Boo was a smart little boy. My kitty, who kept me sober and even swam through the trailer park, was gone.

After that, I vowed never to get attached to a cat again, until many years later wheen Terry and I ended up with my mom's kitty, Callie. Sadly, after five months of caring for Callie, she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and had to be put to sleep.

Boo was more than just a pet; he was a lifeline during a turbulent period of my life. His companionship provided me with the emotional support I needed to stay on track and face my challenges. While losing Boo was devastating, the bond we shared left a lasting impact on me. Pets like Boo remind us of the importance of companionship and the strength we can find in unexpected places. Even though my journey with Boo ended tragically, the memories and lessons from our time together continue to inspire me to persevere through life's challenges.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with pets who've made a difference in your life. Please feel free to leave comments or share your own stories. If you enjoyed this story and would like to support my writing, any contributions are greatly appreciated and help me continue sharing these heartfelt tales. Thank you for your kindness and support!