Niño

Todo gato es un teléfono pero todo hombre es un pobre hombre. Vaya a saber lo que siguen diciéndonos, los caminos que nos muestran; por mi parte sólo he sido capaz de discar en mi teléfono ordinario el número de la universidad para la cual trabajo, y anunciar casi avergonzadamente mi descubrimiento.

Every cat is a telephone but every man is a poor man. Who knows what they keep telling us, the paths they show us, on my side I have only been able to dial with my ordinary telephone the university for which I work and to tell them, almost in shame, my discovery. 

Julio Cortázar – my translation

There is a logic and comfort in routine. There was one that did not happen for the last two months. I had a top to bottom flood in the house and the only safe heaven was my bedroom where Niño and Niña and I  escaped the noise of the dehumidifiers, the making of holes in ceilings and the removal of stairs and floors.

To that, about a month ago Niño began to lose weight rapidly. I took him to a nearby vet shop and was told that my cat had some sort of lymphoma cancer of the intestines.

I had to give him a human cancer pill every day and anther pill on the other days that would treat his infection. The last time they saw Niño they indicated that the pills were working and he might live a couple of years more. Niño and Niña are 10.

As I write often here, my only solace in the grief for my dead Rosemary (it seems to be worse as time begins to fade that awful 9 December 2020) is the company of my ever affectionate brother and sister cats.

They provide me with a purpose of feeding them. In the case of Niño he is always hungry but I give him his food in small batches. He has not vomited for four weeks. With them I feel an almost human company.

Today marked the first time that Niño and I went for a walk. He walked as if we had yesterday. He behaved and didn’t linger too much.

But I still thought of Rosemary who would tell me, “Alex, never shout at him. Just wait and have patience.” I feel that absent presence of hers as we take the same route she did for so many years.

Of late Niño has been sleeping on her side of the bed and close to Rosemary's pillows. At night I place my hand on his side. His hair is now softer because of his pills. He is not Rosemary but it feels comforting.