Niño & Niña

At age 76 I know we must travel before travel insurance for the both of us become onerous. Yesterday (I am writing this February 19), a few hours before we were to leave for the airport, Rosemary decided to purchase insurance. I had to answer all kinds of questions on what seems to have been an infinity of possible diseases. In the end I am insured. I told the woman on the phone that since we were traveling to Italy the premium should have been double because of bureaucracy. But she had no sense of humour and I left it at that.

I put Niño and Niña in their cage and took them with all their blankets, food and food dishes to the Feline Hilton. There I was told I had to have the cats vaccinated for this and that. I had no choice but to give my assent.

Niño in particular looked at me with big mournful eyes a sort of, “Why are you doing this?”

I have stated before that somehow a cat in its essential catness reinforces our own personal humanity. Niño and Niña make compel me to feel more human, more caring and more forgiving.

As I drove back I felt myself hoping that the days in Italy were almost over and I could turn the car and pick them up. They say that cats, lacking clocks, have no idea of the passage of time. I am not too sure. Will they think of us while we are gone? Who knows?

But we will have them in our thoughts every day of our trip. Chances are that our next trip will not be one that comes soon.