Postscript

My ex and his lawyer finally ran out of antagonistic legal strategies, so I received my share of the proceeds from the sale of the mutually owned house nine and a half MONTHS after its closing date. His own lawyer described him as “insane” in conversations with my lawyer, and was ready to fire him.

Oddly, a piece of mail arrived for a woman who had adopted one of my foster cats a couple of years before. I contacted her – and it turned out she needed a cat sitter while she did some art stuff in Germany. She had lived in the upstairs apartment, before the building was sold. The building had belonged to an older man who had it for a long time, and was very frugal. He didn’t do many repairs, but he stayed out of his tenants hair. Their rent had been $ 950.00, all included (c. 2013 or 2014). I paid $ 1500.00 plus hydro, two years later, while the upstairs tenants paid $ 1900.00 for her former apartment, furnished with the finest low range Ikea.

Roller (the cat) had developed a very serious congenital heart condition – Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. He had gone into congestive failure a couple of months before and almost died. I was nervous to look after him. He needed three pills twice a day – or else.

Roller had been a tough guy street cat from the Regent Park (notorious social housing) area. He was confused and upset for a couple of days, then became the lovable cat jerk I had previously known. He ate my geriatric cat’s special high calorie food and got pretty fat. He had a good time at my summer camp and did not die, though I worried about this possibility every day.

When she came to pick him up he didn’t want to leave, and hid under the sink. The last I heard he was doing okay. I sure hope this is still true.

roller.JPG

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