I make allowances, in my loathing of celebrity gossip, for George Clooney – about whom I’ll read anything and everything. (I think I’d make a great stalker if I wasn’t so incredibly lazy.) It seems that death has done parted George from the love of his life; an 18-year old pig named Max. Any would-be Clooney stalker worth her salt knows about Max, but I’d never heard this story before:

George on the 1994 Earthquake “Max was in bed with me and woke up minutes before it happened. And I was yelling at him for waking me up, when everything just exploded. So, I’m naked with Max, and running…’cause I’m in a house on a hill, and if it’s going down I want to be up on the street, dodging the next house. My buddy, who lives in the downstairs guest house, comes running up. And he’s naked. With a gun, because he thought someone was breaking in. And I’m trying to write a note to my folks, trying to explain to them in case we die that it’s not what is seems: two naked men, a gun and a pig”

Ave atque vale, Max. Enjoy that big stir-fry in the sky.

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