Another kilometre, and the hedgerows disappeared, coffee shops, galleries, and designer stores springing up in their place.The view opened as Granvill... rose to a bridge, revealing downtown Vancouver bathed in shafts of crystalline light that had broken between the clouds. I exited right, circling under the bridge to park outside the Granville market.I’d been a freelance travel and food writer for five years. The experience had utterly removed any desire to become a chef – too much stress, too. “You want to be my pet all the time?”June looked sad. “It’s a crazy thing to say.”I shook my head. “No. It’s the perfect thing to say.” I told June that she could be my pet. “But, I have to give you a pet name.”I told her that pets don’t wear clothes. Pets don’t use hands. “Can pets talk?”She laughed. “Pets can talk. If they want to.” She said pets need good food.I thought about that. “Are noodles and pizza good food? You can’t eat steak every day.”She said she liked noodles and pizza. She said. More

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