La Casa Palma was once at Steiner and Waller in San Francisco. It was a few other places before, and has been two places since. First a house in Castro Valley, and now a home in Ohio.
I wrote up a brochure detailing the amenities of the charming bed and breakfast, never mentioning the true location, and managed to fool a handsome young man into thinking we needed to pack for the trip. We weren't actually going any further than my bed and breakfast and a pint at the pub around the corner, one Mad Dog in the Fog.
Written up as well was a description of the resident cat. Detlef, named originally for the Sonics player, was just a kitten at the time. He still loved Doritos and cleaning the tomato sauce from my bowl. I think I have a picture of him beside the young man, cleaning his plate atop a blue plastic crate decorated with my grandma's china and two silver candles. We didn't let him have treats like that for long. He's now lived a lifetime on Hill's Science Diet and water, but I wonder if I should have allowed a few more Doritos.
La Casa Palma in San Francisco was his first home with me, and Ohio is going to be his last. His kidneys are failing and he may not be with us much longer. We've already wept.
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