Completely alone, 18 December 2021 5pm

This morning Niño and Niña were on my lap as I was having my last breakfast before I leave tonight for Buenos Aires.

The bags are packed thanks to the fact that I have adopted Rosemary’s secret for being organized. This was a little book called lists. Every day she would strike out with a pen or pencil what had been done. I can now reveal that doing that brings a lot of pleasure.

But during the day I had that lingering feeling of melancholy as I thought of having to take the cats to the Feline Hilton (they accept reservations but they do not serve buffet breakfast) on West Boulevard in Kerrisdale.

Niño & Niña 18 December 2021 9am

Taking the cats was always a sad affair but this was something that Rosemary and I did together. Coming back from an international trip or just from a weekend in Lillooet always brought the pleasure of picking them up.

Today I remembered my cardiologist with a heart, who a few weeks ago, when I saw him in person he asked me, “How are your cats?” I answered that as days passed I saw them more as humans. Dr, Huckell corrected me, “Alex you are becoming a cat.”

Finally the time came and I put them (this time with little effort) into their carry/cage. I left them with the kind women that work at the Kerrisdale Veterinary Clinic.

Driving home, arriving at my house door, when normally upon entering I would say , “¿Niño, Niña como están?” I was hit by the reality that for the first time since my Rosemary died on December 9 2020 I was now completely alone.

The excitement of my trip to Buenos Aires is muted and the only kind of positive thought I have happens when I think, “On December 31, as soon as I arrive at the Vancouver Airport I will pick up Niño and Niña.”

And I will no longer be alone.