He died first:

"Stranger, note as you pass by
As you are now, so once was I
As I am now, so will you be
Prepare for Death and follow me."

And his good friend, next to whom he'd purchased his grave and with whom he'd had a falling out just before he died, passed away and had this as his epitath:

"To follow you I'm not content
For I know not which way you went."


Why not buy a large field somewhere, a sunny field bordered by mountains and the seashore, and turn it into the Mudcat Memorial Field? Graves and gravestones, scatterings, a mausoleum (you want it, you build it), a couple of pubs, picnic tables, gardens, nooks for private moments alone or with others, places to place and sing -- British Columbia, Washington, or Oregon come to mind as places that might have such a place available.