One of my earliest pictures of Boo after we adopted him in 2013.
Category: Pets
At the Top of the Stairs, There Was Em
Emma was not happy about the arrival of little Boo in the summer of 2013. On his first foray into the house at large he had to climb the stairs first past Ellie, then Sam, and finally Emma at the top. I spent most of Boo’s first month with Emma, letting her know this was still, and always would be, her home. She was a sweetheart and in time not only came to accept the little fellow but let him snuggle up with her. It’s still hard for me at times to edit pictures of her, knowing that in a year and a half we’d be going through another introduction, this time getting Boo to accept young Trixie after Emma died far too young.
Both Sam and Emma followed Boo around as he explored but Sam watched Emma as much as he watched Boo, here looking up at Emma atop the stairs as she growls at the intrusion of the young kitten. Sam loved his life with his two older sisters and never wanted it to change, but when they both died young he accepted his new siblings pretty quickly.
The Cat Hat
Where Is Boo Sleeping?
The First Boo
My first picture of Boo, taken July 6, 2013, the day after we adopted him. He was terrified and had been struggling at the shelter so I didn’t want to scare him any further, waiting until his second day when a quieter camera arrived to take his first picture. He’s sitting in the cardboard cat carrier we brought him home in, his very first Boo Box.
Where is Boo Sleeping?
A Little Overwhelmed
Boo in 2013 on the day we gave him his first free reign of the house. He’d flop over in the kitchen when he got a little overwhelmed, close to the basement where he could retreat to a more comfortable place. He rose to half-alert with his eyes fully focused on Emma, our oldest cat who was not happy about his arrival. At this stage we only gave him limited time in the full house as he still needed to work on his confidence.
When Sam Met Boo
Sam the Spot Stealer
Getting Comfortable
We adopted Boo about five months after the death of Scout, another black-and-white cat. Their patterns were different enough that most of the time it wasn’t hard on me but in the early days at some angles I’d draw my breath in as he reminded me so much of her. The hardest time for me was when he was getting comfortable in his new home, even though in general it was a great relief as we were concerned the other two cats and the dog would be too much for the terrified little fellow. He started curling up in the cat bed beside me and for a couple of weeks I’d see him out of the corner of my eye and think it was Scout and feel a pinprick of grief before having it washed away with joy that Boo was home, and knew it.












