Wednesday, July 05, 2006

The Grand Adventures of Boots

This is a new story I have started for kids, maybe 8to 10. Its just the first little bit, but please, leave your comments and let me know what you think.

If you were to knock on the door of the little blue cottage at 820 Salmon Avenue, you would be greeted by a small black cat called Boots. He would grandly open the door and introduce himself as "Theodore Fitzsimmons-Jones, Esquire, at your service." You see, Boots had the honor of being born with a white patch of fur upon his chest that gives the impression that he is wearing a full black suit with a white collared shirt and a black tie. Because of these markings, Boots has been known to take himself a bit too seriously at times. At birth, he was also blessed with four white paws, this being the reason that he is known far and wide as "Boots".

Boots would then invite you in, as he does all the children who come to visit, and ask you to join him for a spot of lavender catnip tea. He would settle you into his favorite bamboo chair on his bright and sunny sunporch, bring out his finest china and offer you his delicious homemade crabcakes as a snack. You would politely accept, hoping upon hope, that this distinguished gentlecat would soon begin regaling you with the grand adventures thay you have come to hear...

"You see", begins Theodore "Boots" Fitzsimmons-Jones, clearing his throat and licking the last remains of crabcake from between his front claws, "I was born in a small fishing village off the coast of Oregon. My father was a respected Physician, the first medicine cat to bring his healing touch to this part of the world. The respect and loyalty given to my father and his family was to open many doors of adventure to me. My mother was a warm and lovely lady, as any doctors wife should be. My friends and I were greeted everyday after school by the smell of fresh baked cookies and loaves of toasty bread. To this day I have a weakness for fresh bread. I will sit right down on the kitchen floor and have as many slices as my poor tummy can possibly hold. Would you like a slice now? With milk and honey butter? Good, good. Now stay right there. I shall return shortly." With this, Boots jumped up and bound into the kitchen, as sprightly and spry as a kitten of much younger years.