We brought you home from Fresno, a four-hour drive away. You and your brother were just kittens, tiny male black Maine Coon mixes. I had never raised kittens before, and all the way home, you and your brother watched me big-eyed from the carrier. You both were quiet, just holding the grid of the door with your small paws. So good, you didn’t cry at all the four hours going to your forever home.

When we arrived, you hid at first in the guest room, but soon ventured down the hallway and made a friend in George. You chose him, and you’ve been best friends since. Lying on his legs, purring as you watched old westerns or hitman movies, or racing up his body to chat, you were his little “chipmunk” cat with big, wide-open eyes and a feisty spirit.

You, the alpha cat, although weighing 3 pounds less than your brother, even caught 6 mice while Porter caught none! You paraded one down the hallway to show me in bed, but George telepathically persuaded you not to, so you trotted back to play with it (and eventually eat it) in the bathroom. You were inventive in your games, a playful jack-in-the-box popping up from the cat tree to catch the swinging bird toy. Just like that, with a pop, your arms outstretched.

When I finally went back to the office and came home late, you’d wait hours ahead in the hallway, sometimes racing down to greet me. You loved me, climbing onto my lap and kneading the granny square blanket and patting my chest, demanding pets. You’d sing, and sing, and sing, even now with lymphoma. Though your treads became lighter, your love for George remained. You purr and sing while lying on his legs and sleep with us at night.

My heart aches, Clemmie. You are our heart, and we love you so much. I’m not ready to let go. A few weeks ago, we were able to tempt you with prime rib from Original Joe’s at Westlake and deli roast beef, but now you have touched very little. We’ll open a new can of Fancy Feast Chicken Pate every hour if you will eat. You still sing for George, a beacon of love even in illness. Clemmie, please eat for his big kind heart.
-Priscilla L. & George R.