Jack the Cat died yesterday — Saint Patrick’s Day now provides a whole new depth — and today I am missing the best writing partner I ever had.  Even though Jack had been extremely ill the last three months of his life — his Veterinarian said he was a “Miracle Cat” because his blood numbers were so bad he should have been dead long ago — yet Jack still fought on with us to live because he seemed to know what we could never admit:  We could not live without each other.  Even in the throes of his last days with failing kidneys, anemia and heart failure — Jack always remained the elegant, bi-color, Persian show cat he was born to be 15 years ago.  He never lost his class:

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