On Thursday Oct. 8th I was finishing up teaching my House dance class by shooting the shit with Carlos and one of our students. Next thing I know my phone rings and it's Rees crying saying Alejandro my 18+ year old cat was having a seizure. I told him to jump in a cab and to meet me at the Emergency vet on Belmont and Clybourn NOW. While running to my car I call my magazine partner Terry (he lives upstairs from me) and he runs down to join Rees in the cab. The whole time I'm racing to the vet I'm calling them checking to see how Alejandro is. At some point I knew something was very wrong, and in my distress and confusion I kept getting lost between damn Clybourn and Belmont.

When I finally drive up to the vet Terry is waiting outside for me. I'm crying as we go inside the room, and there lay my beautiful Alejandro wrapped up in a blanket on the table. He was gone. He had taken his last breath while in the cab and they wanted to spare me that fact until I got there. This had to be one of the most painful times I've ever had in my life, to watch something you've loved more than anything lay lifeless before you. So I stood there and kept petting him, kissing him on the top of his head and remembering the feel of his soft fur. I didn't want to let him go.

My best friend since I first came to this country, he was a little black cat I adopted from the Evanston animal shelter. He was cranky, very vocal, fiercely loyal and always slept on top of me in my bed. He nearly died on me 5 years ago, first from liver failure then again from kidney failure. He cured himself of diabetes. So now my little miracle cat has had his time. My only wish was that I could have been there with him before he died, but at least I know he was with people who loved him too. R.I.P. my little Alejandro, I love you so much.