A friend of mine wrote this very touching ode to her cat, Clay, when he died in 2004 and I just came across it again. I thought you might appreciate it, being fellow furry friend lovers.
Shown above in several poses, including one with his original partner-in-crime Ozzie, Clay (named for the famous Cleveland Browns player Clay Matthews) was one of the sweetest, most affectionate cats ever to grace the planet. Upon reaching 16 years of age this past December, he was finally old enough to get his driver’s license, thus joining “Toonces” as one of the few “cats who can drive a car.” Other notable life milestones included leaving his birthplace in the Big Apple for the kinder, gentler mid-west,
the arrival of Max – the big stupid dog (“yawn…”), the 6 hour car ride and week long vacation in Chicago IL, the arrival of Jacob and Annie Gries (“who, although it took many years of practice, eventually learned the correct way to hold me…”), the passing of Ozzie in 2000, the arrival of feline #3 Butch and, most recently the arrival of feline #4 Chester. Like most cats, Clay’s number one concern was being fed – early and often – and finding that “just right” patch of sunlight in which to curl up for a snooze. A true master in the art of the nap, he is gone but certainly not forgotten. “He was a heck of a cat.”
