Kinky Friedman’s eulogy for Cuddles
(From the epilogue of the book by Kinky Friedman, “Elvis, Jesus & Coca-Cola” ) On January 4, 1993, the cat in this book and the books that preceded it was put to sleep in Kerrville, Texas, by Dr. W. H. Hoegemeyer and myself. Cuddles was fourteen years old, a respectable age. She was as close to me as any human being I have ever known. Cuddles and I spent many years together, both in New York, where I found her as a little kitten on the street in Chinatown, and later on the ranch in Texas. She was always with me, on the table, on the bed, by the fireplace, beside the typewriter, on top of my suitcase when I returned from a trip. I dug Cuddles’ grave with a silver spade, in the garden by the stream behind the old green trailer where both of us lived in summertime. Her burial shroud was my old New York sweatshirt and in the grave with her is a can of tuna and a cigar. A few days ago I received a sympathy note from Bill Hoegemeyar, the veterinarian. It opened...
