Stephan Pastis

Scott led, I followed.

No him, no me.

Which is why a few weeks ago when I heard he didn't have much time left, I asked him if I could come by the house and say goodbye.

And he said, yes.

So I drove here to Pleasanton and saw him there in his bed in his living room.

And we joked about all the stuff I just told you.

And we talked about one more thing.

I told him one last time how much I owed him.

And once again, offered to clean his windows.

But instead of his usual response, he replied that he did have something to ask of me, which he had never said.

So surprised, I said, whatever you want, man, you know, I owe you everything.

And he said there was a writer doing his biography and asked, would you write the introduction?

The human part of me started to cry.

The cartoonist in me replied, sorry, dude, I got no time for you.

Scott laughed.

I loved making him laugh.

And then I said, of course, man, it would be an honor.

So then I held his hand and I said, thank you.

I wanted to hug him, but he had those hospital beds on either side of him, so I couldn't get to him.

Looking back on it, I think he put them there on purpose.