Batting cleanup in any order: Casey The Cat [1]. Get a load of that tongue! It was like something you’d find on Shaquille O’Neal’s left sneaker. How long was it? It was so long that half the time Casey couldn’t seem to stick it back in his mouth. Or maybe he just liked to have it ready to go in case he detected something on Bernie or Stephanie or me that required his immediate cleaning attention. Whether he loved to or just felt the neurotic need to, Casey licked everybody in sight. Surround yourself with the finest felines animal rescuers have to offer — a kissier cat you’ll never give over your skin or your scalp or your soul to.
Casey’s gone five years gone as of June 28. But I believe that his tongue, like his place in my heart, will go on.