Remembering Clyde

We lost Clyde four years ago today. Was it not typical of Clyde, that sweet little boy, that he passed on a day that we technically only had to live through every four years?

I've always felt terrible that I never wrote a poem for Clyde like I did for Nigel. I'm not sure why I didn't. I did spend the time to put together an album for him (as I did for Nigel); why I never wrote the poem, though, is hard to say. Perhaps I was avoiding the pain, perhaps it just wasn't in me. Certainly, I've learned in recent times that things come when they come and sometimes they just never do.

I'll admit I've also felt guilt, as if I was sending a message to my dear departed Clyde that he was not as loved as Nigel. Far from the truth; although it IS true that Clyde came into his own after Nigel died. Who knows what would have happened had cancer not taken him from us? I like to think he would have had a great time romping with his new buddies Pete and Lily and holding court over the Greek's. As for Lucy, he'd probably have continued to avoid and ignore her.

Anyway, in tribute, here are some of my memories of Our Sweet Pal.

I still miss you, Clydie.

Clyde

Came home on Halloween Day 1992.

Softest fur. Ever.

“Grey Baby”.

Loud, demanding meow.

Longest whiskers.

Beautiful big green eyes.

Pigeon-toed J

Drooler.

Loved to roll around in the sunny patches on the carpet.

Although he was very ill, we rolled around in the sun together our last weekend.

Routinely bumped his head against things; a table leg, the dresser, a human leg. Very clumsy!

Only cat I’ve ever had who would reach out and tap you on the shoulder or arm or face to get your attention.

Would pull my glasses off my face.

LOVED Greenies!

Ran around pell-mell with his string; we’d hear him over head “clomp clomp clomp”. The cat had dozens of toys and yet he wanted to play with a string!

Protested loudly when subjected to a ride in the car.

Loud and constant purr.

Made a funny “uh-mah” noise when he jumped up onto the bed at night.

Had to knead his blanket before he went to sleep.

Had the sweetest little white chin which was often covered with crunchie-crumbs.

Came to really dig hanging out in the perch we got him when Lucy arrived.

The perch was the last place I ever saw him when we said our final good-byes.

Would take naps with me on the green couch every afternoon. It was OUR time (the dog had to stay downstairs).

Nigel’s little brother.

Would come running for food.

ALWAYS a barfer and plant chomper!

Left us on Leap Year Day.

I heard one of his last meows over the phone.

Peaceful and quiet at the end.

Clydie.

C-Wide!

The Gangster Kitty.

Our Sweet Pal.

Never second best.

Mrs. B