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I think most of us would choose to be a cat. But, of all the cats, I would want to be this one. And, after reading this post, I think you probably would, too.

A few weeks ago, sadly, we lost Boots, usurper stepbrother of Antoine, Louis Catorze’s frère-from-another-mère, and wearer of the Chelsea cat collars. 

(He actually turned out to be a Crystal Palace fan, as you will see below. However, the fact that he went through enough collars to exhaust the Chelsea Megastore of all supplies – and, to this day, they remain out of stock – means that I will always remember him for his Chelsea collars.)

Boots was a massive arse. All cats are massive arses, of course – and, if you don’t believe this, clearly you have never met a cat – but Boots really was up there among the arsiest of them all. 

That said, perhaps we ought to be pointing our fingers at the human enablers, not at Boots. He turned up randomly one day, at the house of those who later became his humans. He made his presence known by being mean to the incumbent furry overlords, scrapping with all neighbourhood wildlife and generally being obnoxious. Yet, instead of telling him to sod off, the humans went “Aww!”, took him in and gave him the best of everything. So who is really at fault here for his entitled, shitty behaviour?

Here are my favourite Boots stories over the years, in no particular order: 

1. Chelsea collar introduction.
2. Collars lost.
3. Collar famine.
4. Christmas supermodel. 
5. Jigsaw puzzle carnage.
6. Crystal Palace fan.

Wherever he may be, we are pretty sure he’s not resting in peace, and neither is anyone who happens to encounter him on the Other Side. Much love to the big sod (who, despite everything, will be sorely missed), and to his humans. 

For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com