My New Cat

Someone's discarded boot showed up at my front doorstep

The boot had no tag and it was beaten to hell

I felt bad for the leather,

ripped and tattered and covered in mites

that never washed away

It was new, probably six months old

The soles are worn, though. too

hard to walk on

Making it wait outside in an old box,

in that cold snowy abyss. made me 

feel no better than the boot's true owner

But there was a reason that boot came to us

the boot was hurt and needed repairs, and

dad gave the O.K. to bring it in, and fix it up

The tattered boot still had internal problems

The tongue never sat  quite right,

stitching ripped, no laces

but we loved our boot.

This weathered boot became family,

family like no other we had before.

Our boot grew into a lovely sweet Shoe Carnival and

she proved how easy it is. to be changed by love.

and some leather polish.