They say a dog is a mans best friend. Growing up, I was a firm believer of this. In the late fall of 2012, everything I thought I knew about life, suddenly changed. Walking home from the San Carlos Scrounge lounge, something caught the corner my eye that would change the course of my heart for months to come. God introduced a love too deep for words that brisk Novemeber night. 4 paws, 2 eyes, 1 tail, 1 heart and a pair of testicals. There he towered at the gates of the Titz Calrton. His fur, kissed by the fiery orange sun. His eyes were as brown as the well water in our above ground pool. His meow was as loud as the gusts of a thousand winds. This 6 pound creature gazed into my drunken soul that night. He needed a friend and at that exact moment, he knew I needed one as well. Natrually, I figured this was one of our vile neighbors felines who roamed outside of his realm. I was rather hammered so It dawned on me that stealing the neighbors cat would be good idea, so I took him in. As I turned on the Christmas lights, I knew my original hypothesis was incorrect. This was no domesticated cat who ran away from home in search of a rebels adventure. This was an undernourished San Carlos Stray. His stench was almost as bad as the stale beer cans that inhabited the house. His breath was so rancid, it could awake a hundred sleeping giants. Most people would have tossed you out to face the shivering cold where your paws would have frost bitten to the bone. However, I thought to myself, I’m a stray myself. Just roaming the streets of San Carlos in search of a full belly, comfort and a saucer of warm milk. I couldn’t let this animal be subjected to outside world. This cat had a new home now and it was the Titz Carlton. That day, the households heart grew by 2 and quagmire’s (roommate) allergies grew immensely as well. I named my new best friend what only seemed appropriate, Carlton. It sure was a time for the ages Carlton and I had in the winter of 2012.
From prancing around on the streets of Hepatica to drinking on the roof, Carlton and I were inseparable. Carlton even got to spend his first Christmas with the boys, where we hung stocking around the Christmas tree and sang carols so beautiful, the angels cried. It was a holiday indeed for the Titz Carlton.
But that’s all it was, a brief holiday. Like all good things in this world, they come to an end sooner or later. In the early spring of 2013, Our landlord (the night king) forced us to part ways with Carlton. I was forced to give up something so near and dear. If you love something, you must set it free. One of our local San Carlos residents took him in. A few months later, Carlton became very sick, terminal. My life was crashing around me, like a monsoon from depths of Persia. Selfishly, I tried to Keep Carlton here, with us, where he belonged. He had a wimper in his eye that said “ Its’ okay, let me go.” Like Jack and Rose from Titanic, I wanted to shout “ I’ll never let go.” It was a treacherous day but Calrton was in much pain and the new owner decided it was best to lay him to rest, against my will. I still have conspiracy theories about his sudden death to this day. Next to the woods at the Titz, is where Calrton lies now but his soul is very much still alive within the house and the streets of Hepatica Road. I’ll see you again Carlton because all cats go to heaven. Stay tuned for next week’s chapter: Parents Weekend.
check out our park rat shirt and since Clark-a-Claus is in such a majestic mood, take 50% the entire store. Use code “Drunk” at checkout. All proceeds will go to hiring a private investigator to solve Carlton’s sudden death.