God made Adam and Eve out of it. But this is not about that kind of clay.
Politicians’ feet are made of it. But that’s not what this is about.
This is about a little soul that came out of the woods one day and captured my heart.
At the time, my wife and I were living in the heart of Mendocino County, in Northern California. Our house was deep in the old forests of Redwoods and Doug Firs, near the old “Skunk train” line some of you might know about. There are a lot of snaggle-tooth people in the area who refuse to spend the time or money to have their cats “fixed.” As a result, these people find themselves with unwanted litters on their hands. Their solution is to drive the kittens out somewhere away from their home and drop them off at the side of some out-of-the way road. Thus, one day I heard the feeble mewing of a kitten, but couldn’t locate it.
Next day, I was doing some work in the garden and spotted a tiny fur ball hiding under my deck. We had two grown cats of our own, Fuzz and Yeti; the starving kitten must have been drawn to their food.
For reasons not even clear to me, the appearance of this kitten was propitious. One look into his big blue eyes and I was hooked. Now you have to understand something – I like cats but I'm no cat nut. We have adult children – our cats were not substitutes for children as they are for some. Anyway, I managed to get him to cozy up to me by offering him some vittles which he happily accepted. Eventually I was able to pick him up for inspection. He took to me right away. He was some sort of Siamese mix, didn’t much look Siamese; had nice plump features and shorter legs than you find on a Siamese. He had beautiful thick fur running from a creamy white to a warmer tan and dark grey mask and ears... and those beautiful riveting blue eyes. He reminded me of sculpting clay, so I named him Clay. Fuzz and Yeti didn’t appreciate him. They were used to being the center of attention, and let’s face it, these old pampered pusses couldn’t compete for my heart... not with this little fur ball who had come into this world unwanted, and whose earliest days consisted of being dumped out of a pick-up truck, hiding from coyotes and scrounging for food.
Fuzz and Yeti were typically spoiled semi-indoor cats. We had built them a nice cozy house in our garage. It was plush, and heated in the cold months. They had access through a pet door, so came and went at their leisure. They had more food than they knew what to do with. They were so well fed that they lay near their food bowls and watched unperturbed as Steller Jays by day and raccoons by night came by and ate their dinner. Clay quickly learned the routine. With three squares a day, his fur grew thicker and shinier, he got stronger and lost his fears and shyness.
Clay was playful and loved to tease the older, much larger cats. They did their best to ignore him but he often wound up jumping on top of their heads in his show of affection. The little guy strutted around like he was a big boy. I loved watching his over-sized paws as he ran circles around Fuzz and Yeti. Best of all, we’d sometimes catch him go nose-to-nose with the beautiful fawns ushered into our backyard by mama does to feed on our grass – grown thick and juicy from Northern California rains. We almost never had to mow the lawn. They kept it as perfectly trimmed as a putting green on any of Donald Trump's golf courses.
One day, I noticed all that vitality was draining out of Clay. A trip to the vet revealed he had inherited Feline Leukemia and was not going to get better. We took him home and did what we could to make him comfortable. I think Fuzz and Yeti instinctively understood. They softened toward him. One night, Clay rolled up into a ball and drew his last breath.
I buried Clay in the shade of a canyon oak at a high spot on our property. I often visited the spot, and when we decided to move I went to say goodbye. We lived with quite a few cats over the years. Clay was not with us very long, but he is my favorite. I like to think he was an angel sent to lift my spirits at a time I needed it. His mission completed, he was called back by Whoever sent him, undoubtedly receiving a reward for a job well done.
That was almost 15 years ago. I often think of the little guy. It was an honor knowing you, Clay.
