Lucky Boo's FLOTY Nomination

I am nominating my Food Lady for the Food Lady/Dude/Peepul of the Yeer Award.

My name/Our names are: My name is Lucky Boo and my Food Lady's name is Heather. She's also the Food Lady of my siblings Sir Thomas, Dutch, Luna, and Sindri.


I don’t know how my Food Lady (a.k.a. Mommy) grew up to be so different than the Food Lady and Food Dude who came before her (a.k.a. my Grandparents), but each day I am thankful for their differences. I found my Food Lady 13 years ago, when she was only 10 years old. She lived on a lonely dirt road, and I wandered up to her while she was out for a walk with her parents. Her parents told her she could keep me as long as she understood that she was giving up the opportunity to own a purebred puppy of her choice. She gladly accepted, and I became known as Lucky Boo.


In the family my Food Lady was born into, pets are just animals. They aren’t cherished family members. So imagine my relief when I realized that my Food Lady was different. She has always had a connection with animals and has always believed them to be in many ways equal to humans, all deserving of compassion, comfort, and love. While her parents were content having a dog outside guarding the house, my Food Lady wanted to make sure that dog always had a decent quality food, some fun toys to play with, and a nice soft bed (inside the house, nonetheless) to sleep in.

Over the years, as my Food Lady grew older, she began to see that I didn’t have an easy life under her care. I lived outside, per her parents’ orders, and I survived some bizarre injuries. I was bitten by a snake, and I even almost got decapitated by a garage door. Lucky, she began to realize, was quite an appropriate name for me. But when I was 12, I started facing the most serious afflictions ever: Feline Leukemia and Feline Infectious Peritonitis. My Food Lady had been away at college for a couple of years, and I’d stayed behind with her parents. I was still an outside cat. When I started to have seizures, my Food Lady came to my rescue. She and I were always close and very bonded, so she was devastated to find out that I might not be around much longer. My Food Lady decided to give me the best care. Her Food Dude (a.k.a. her Dad, my Food GrandDude) had taken me to the vet, saying he didn’t want to spend much money on me, the old, worn-out cat. He does love me, but it's just not the same with him as it is with my Food Lady. The vet wanted to have me put to sleep, saying I wouldn’t survive more than a few weeks, but my Food Lady wouldn’t have that.

She hauled me off to college with her, and I became a spoiled rotten indoor kitty. I had fancy new toys, new beds, super premium food, and even a water fountain with fresh, flowing water. I also had a new vet. My Food Lady said this new vet was the best in the area, and she was right. Even though I had a lot of great new things, I also had a few new problems. I started to throw up a lot, and I also started missing the litter box. But my Food Lady accepted these negatives as new challenges. Because my Food Lady was willing to put a little effort and money into my care, I am still alive and relatively healthy. My Food Lady has done everything in her power to make my life more comfortable, pleasant, and healthy. I take two pills twice a day, but my Food Lady has even made that process an easy one by getting me some Pill Pockets. They are treats that mask the awful taste of pills, and I love them. She even got me a stroller because I missed going outside so much! Every time I get sick, whether it be with seizures, a urinary problem, or a cold, my Food Lady schedules a vet visit for me. She doesn't even complain when she has to clean up after me when I throw up or miss the box. She has made the commitment to take good care of me because I have given her so much love and companionship over the years.

We have watched each other grow up, and now as she watches me grow old and develop medical problems, it saddens her. I know she wishes that we kitties could live as long as humans, but that’s just not the way things are. Besides, there are lots of kitties in need of loving homes, and if we all lived nearly a century, so many more cats would be homeless or in shelters. I am no longer a robust, young cat, and to my Food Lady it seems like the changes in my health took place overnight.

We are both lucky that I am still here, eight months after receiving my diagnoses, and we cherish every moment that we have together. This past year has been a rocky one, but also one of the sweetest because my Food Lady and I have spent almost every waking moment with each other. I only hope we will have another year together. I am not the only cat in my Food Lady’s life; there are five of us, and we each come with a unique and incredible story of devotion, respect, courage, and most importantly, love.


Link to my blog or Catster profile: http://www.catster.com/?322500