by Fran Mascioli

Created on: August 19, 2009   Last Updated: December 19, 2009

The back door to the kitchen opened, and the scraps were thrown into the air.  My mother threw some bread and leftover chicken outside in our front yard. I watched as she closed the door and went about her business. She kept an eye on the window. Then I saw her smile, and she finished cleaning up our dinner dishes. She repeated that process for the next three nights. On the fourth day, I sat outside in the back yard after dinner and watched from a tree. I was about ten years old at the time.  I finally got to see the little terrier that came, grabbed those scraps she was throwing daily, and run off. He had four white paws. I decided his name was Boots.

"No! We are not getting a dog," she said firmly when I ran inside and asked if we could keep him. "Besides, I'm sure he belongs to someone," she continued. "So don't let him in this house, Carolyn!" For the next six weeks, I tried desperately to follow Boots and see where he lived. I could never keep up with his wanderings. When I was twelve, I noticed Boots eating something outside a local diner early one morning as I was walking to school. "Is that your dog?" I asked the owner. "Naw, he's just a stray. I started feeding him about, hmmm, two years ago. He brought my wallet to me one morning. I must have dropped it when I was sweeping up. And there he was, sitting with it in his mouth, at the back door. I laughed so hard. Then, I gave him some bacon I'd burned. He was back the next morning," said Mr. Miter. "So, now, I give him leftovers after the morning crowd slows down. To him, it's a real feast! I call him Scrappy."

My mother got sick when I was about sixteen.  I'd spend so many nights by her side.  We had the greatest conversations during the next few years.  She confided that Boots had chased off a strange man in our yard one evening as she was putting out the trash. Out of gratitude, she'd started feeding Boots that night. She reminded me every night to give him our table scraps.  I'd cook dinner and bring it to her on a tray.  We'd sit for hours together.

When I graduated from high school, I got a job as a bookkeeper at a warehouse a few blocks from my house. One evening, I needed to work a few hours overtime. There was a security guard that came on just as I was leaving. We sat for a few minutes talking, and I heard a scratching sound from the side door. He walked over and opened up the door to let in a dog. It was Boots! "Oh, my gosh, is that your

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