I'm looking, Clover, pt. 3.

In an afternoon repose, our shamrock enjoys it's last days on earth. And in it to boot. Thanks for all the sympathetic calls and late-hour remedies. It don't look good for Clover, so do me a favor. When you get home to night and you look at that ignored houseplant on the corner of the bookshelf, take the time to pull it down and hug it. You don't know what that means to a ficus.