When I went to see if I wanted a kitten one day in July, 1993, Clark marched out of the cage and curled up in my hands. He chose me. The co-worker with the kittens said they were six-weeks old that very day; when I counted back, it was my birthday.

He was aloof, aggressive at times, wild, independent, but loving and affectionate, too. He brought such joy into my life all these many years. My friends and I talked about him in a way that some who hadn’t met Clark thought he was my young son. He would fetch (he initiated it; I did not teach him).

He loved to bite feet under the cover. He loved to hang over my shoulder and just let me hold and pet him. He loved sleeping next to me in the winter. He was by my side constantly when I went through a deep depression (he wasn’t prone to sleep by me during the day until this time).

He greeted me when I came home (unless he was asleep; more so in his last couple of years). He was “just” a cat, but oh so much more.

He was such a good little buddy for me all his life, liked even by those who weren’t big fans of cats. This is the only picture I have readily available; he’s grey & white (white bottom) with an offset V on his face.

My dear little Clark, I miss you so much. Thank you for being a part of my life.

Jack from Houston, TX

If you have also lost a feline companion, honor their memory by giving them a page of their own.