Extreme Cat Sniffing Is Too a Sport

For extreme sports enthusiasts, if you've got bad allergies try a little cat sniffing.

Laughing Boy is allergic to cats. You'd think that wouldn't be a problem, since I didn't have any cats when we got together. My ex had kept the cats, and I'd kept the dogs. Not by choice, but because one of the dogs needed daily meds and attention and I knew the ex wouldn't take the time. So every time I saw a cat, or heard one purr, I'd miss my cats and usually, I'm ashamed to admit, cry a little.

We had just made an offer on this house, and it was accepted so we were impatiently slogging through the house paperwork, and packing. In a spirit of "we're all in this together", during our own packing we went to help a friend's mom move. When her mom bought the place, it had come with a yard full of cats the previous owner had fed, and the cat rescue had just come by and scooped them up. But the neighbor's cat had become used to hanging out on her front porch instead of its own, and came over to me and started purring. I tried not to cry, hoping nobody would notice.

Laughing Boy leaned down and whispered, "When we get the house, we can have a cat."

"But you're allergic!"

"Not to all cats." He leaned down to pet the cat rubbing against my legs. And then he wheezed and stepped back, just out of dander range. "I'll just sniff them until we find one I'm not allergic to."

So the Saturday after we'd moved into our new place, we went out cat sniffing. I had researched the pet chain stores around us, finding out which ones had Cat Rescue Adoptions on Saturdays, and had mapped them out by which one was closest, and the most practical (quickest) way to get from store to store. Because I did not want someone wandering off with OUR cat.

The first store we walked into (two minutes after they opened - we were LATE!) had two teeny tiny five week old kittens, one black girl kitten and her brother, a gray tabby. I picked up the black one, and LB picked up the gray tabby. Who promptly rolled over on his back in LB's hands, and started to purr. The little black kitten, not to be outdone, reached up and licked my chin.

The rescue folks wouldn't let the two be adopted separately, and how could we choose just one anyway. But LB wanted one cat, so maybe he could still breathe on alternate Thursdays. He sniffed the gray kitten quite thoroughly. No allergic reaction. I could tell the tabby was working the room, but I'd fallen for the little black purring one in my hands. So we switched cats, and the black kitten, with impeccable timing, immediately curled up in LB's hand and fell asleep, her chin hanging over his palm, her tongue peeking out between her teeth.

That did it. I didn't even need to beg. LB and the two cats are now inseparable. I have to remind them all now and then that if it weren't for ME, we wouldn't even have cats. They are not impressed.


Now THAT'S love.

Happy Love Thursday!